Field day
by Marjorie Nescio
Summary: A gossip magazine states that the Queen secretly got married.
1. Nothing to worry about

Introduction

A _what if_ presented itself to me: what if people believe that the Queen and her Head of Security are married?

Drama whispered into my ear that it would become more interesting when the two leading characters would actually be having an affair.

At first I planned to write just a few lines to make clear that the Queen and Joe were lovers, from which point the story could progress. After all: its main subject would be a gossip about a marriage that never took place. Then again: the tension the gossip might cause between the Queen and her Head of Security would gain weight in the light of their history together. Readers should have something to relate to and a _few lines_ wouldn't do...

Pragmatism came to the rescue: why not use one of my previous stories as a 'prequel' to _Field day_?

It wasn't difficult to select _The weekenders. _Although that story ended before Clarisse and Joe fell into each others arms, it was obvious that they would become lovers. And besides: I had once started a sequel, prompted by reviewers who liked to read more. My attempt fluffed though and I didn't publish it. I feel that _Field day_ might offer an opportunity to explore _The weekenders_ further. I will make sure though that the present story can be read independently of _The weekenders_.

_Field day_ starts with Joseph Romero ending up in hospital after an accident. The poor man has a concussion causing him to (temporarily) lose months worth of memory. Admittedly, that doesn't happen often, but in stories anything is possible...

~ Field day ~

Chapter 1 – Nothing to worry about

´You're a lucky man sir,´ the doctor told her patient, ´You came off with a broken arm, bruises and a concussion.´

The man didn't reply.

When the doctor had entered his room, he'd sat up, and he paid for that now.

´Are you feeling dizzy?´

´Yes,´ the man said.

´Do you have a headache?´

´Yes.´

The doctor was just in time to hold a vomiting-pan under his mouth.

´I'm sorry,´ the patient said after he'd accepted the glass of water the doctor offered him.

´Dizziness and vomiting go together,´ she assured him.

The doctor had a feeling that this man was used to being in control. Such people made the worst patients.

´What do you remember from _after_ the accident?´

´My arm was being...´

He searched his brain for the word. When it took him too long, he simply used his right hand to gesture at the bandage around his left arm.

´Put in splints?´

´Yes. That's it.´

´Do you remember anything from _before_ the accident?´

There were images flashing through the man's mind. He couldn't make sense of them.

´I'm sorry, I'm tired.´

´I will leave you then. I'll come to wake you up again in an hour or so.´

OoOoOoO

´How's the biker with the earring and the concussion. Does he remember his name?´ nurse Kaas asked doctor Valera.

The doctor shook her head: ´I haven't even asked him Patrice.´

´No memo-book, no phone numbers?´

´None. He's got some passes. No company name on them. Pedro is on to it.´

OoOoOoO

´Hello sir. How are you?´

The man didn't sit up this time. He remembered he'd thrown up before.

´Hello doctor.´

She checked his pupils.

´I've found your name on a pass. Do you _remember_ your name?´

The man knew that if the doctor would read names from a list, he'd be able to pick out his.

When he remained silent, the doctor asked him if there was anyone she could contact.

´Are you married sir?´

The doctor noticed that the man looked at his hands. _He_ noticed that _she_ noticed.

´I suppose not,´ he replied with a small smile.

´Don't worry,´ the doctor reassured him, ´I can imagine you are confused for not remembering things, but it will be temporary. You may also find that you have difficulty concentrating -´

´And that I tire easily,´ the man nodded.

´You are in Antiem. Do you live here?´

Silence. Then: ´I live in the capital.´

The doctor nodded and asked him if he remembered his address.

The man gave it some thought.

´It seems strange, but I think I live at the Castle.´

´OK, we'll check that.´

OoOoOoO

´Guess!´ Pedro said, when he saw doctor Valera approach, ´First I called a pension called 'the castle' but they didn't know biker Earring. Then I called a men's clothing shop by that name: they never heard of him. I called a massage room: nothing. Then I said to myself Pedro, why don't you call the _Royal Castle_. So I _did_ and you'll never guess! This telephone operator said that Mr Romero works there! Ain't that cool? You can call this number -´

He handed the doctor a piece of paper: ´And ask for Miss Kutaway.´

OoOoOoO

Charlotte picked up the phone.

´Yes?´

´This is Carole Miss Kutaway. I have a doctor Valera for you.´

Carole put the call through.

´Miss Kutaway?´

´Yes, that is I.´

´My name is doctor Valera from the University Hospital in Antiem. Do you know a Mr Joseph Romero?´

Charlotte suddenly felt sick.

´Yes I do. Why? Is something wrong with him?´

´He had an accident with his motor cycle. He came off remarkably well. A broken arm and bruises. He's also suffering from a concussion.´

Silence.

´Miss Kutaway?´

´He had an accident? Will he be all right?´

The doctor patiently repeated that Mr Romero would be fine.

´He will be fine? Can I see him?´

´He will have to rest for a while, but he will be fine. And yes, you can see him.´

´Does he have to stay in hospital for a long time? Can I bring him something? Clothes? Can I visit him?´

After answering Miss Kutaways's questions, the doctor gave her Mr Romero's room number, greeted her and broke the connection.

Charlotte stared at the phone. Joe was injured - but not badly. That was good! So why was she trembling?

´What is wrong Miss Kutaway?´

´Colonel!´

´Are you all right?´

Charlotte swallowed. She heard the sound of high heels.

´Joe's had an accident and he's not badly injured but how I am gonna tell _her_?´ she whispered.

´What happened?´ the Colonel calmly asked.

´I don't know,´ Charlotte replied hurriedly, ´A bike accident. He's got a concussion. It will take time to -´

´Colonel, Charlotte,´ the Queen greeted them.

´Your Majesty.´

´Ma'am,´ the Colonel said, ´Miss Kutaway was just informed that the Head of Security managed to end up with a concussion.´

´What happened?´ Her Majesty demanded. The officer's behaviour made it clear that there was no reason to worry. But then again: the lady was always calm, wasn't she?

´He is _not_ badly injured. He had an accident and he is taken good care of in hospital. His doctor contacted Miss Kutaway.´

The Queen looked at Charlotte who sighed with relief. The way the Colonel had talked about it had made the knot in the secretary's stomach disappear.

Charlotte told her employer what she recalled from the conversation with doctor Valera.

´Could you go to his apartment and select clothes and toilet requisites?´

´Of course ma'am. When would you want them to be brought to him?´

The Queen figured that Joseph would hate being in a hospital gown.

´Right now Charlotte. And could you please do that yourself? I have several meetings to attend this afternoon, and I hope that in between you can inform me about Joseph's status.´

´Yes ma'am.´

´Oh,´ the Queen added, already on her way to her office, ´Could you contact his brothers?´

´I will Your Majesty.´

The first thing the Queen did after entering her office was pour a glass of cold water and hold it against her forehead. With her free hand she steadied herself against a table.

OoOoOoO

The doctor and Charlotte walked out of the hospital room.

´It's a normal response,´ the doctor assured her patient's friend, ´It will take a while before the wiring is up and running. He'll remember you.´

Charlotte nodded bravely.

´Does he live on his own?´

´No, he doesn't doctor.´

´He thinks he isn't married.´

´That's true.´

´Are there people who can take care of him?´

Charlotte smiled at the thought of all the maids who'd fight to get a chance to pamper the Head of Security.

´Yes there are,´ she replied, adding: ´Will he be released from hospital soon?´

´Not today. I will keep him in observation for 24 hours at least. What line of work is he in? I ask this because the demands of some jobs -´

´He's a bodyguard,´ Charlotte interrupted.

´I have a folder that points out the effects a concussion can have on a patient. I will give it to you, so you can hand it to his commander and -´

´Mr Romero is the _Head_ of Security,´ Charlotte smiled.

´Oh. He is is he? Oh. OK. Well I suppose you need not give him the folder then.´

Charlotte took it anyway: ´I'll show it to our _boss_.´

´Your boss? Oh! Yes. I see.´

The doctor was sorry that they'd run out of colour printed folders and she scolded herself for that.

OoOoOoO

Meanwhile the man in the hospital room had checked the bag the young woman called Charlotte had given him. The stuff inside it looked familiar somehow.

´Joe,´ he said aloud. Yeah, the name with which _Charlotte_ had addressed him rang a bell. It seemed right. He hadn't known _her_ name any more than he'd known his own. Despite what the doctor had said, he was worried for not recognising _Charlotte_. She'd been embarrassed for having to tell her name. He had decided not to make things worse by asking her about their relationship especially not since she'd come all the way from the capital to bring him clothes.

_I also brought you a letter Joe_, Charlotte had said and she'd meaningfully glanced at the envelop she'd handed him.

Joe looked at it again. It read Joseph.

Joseph. Joe, Joseph. Yes, _Joseph_ felt fine too.

He opened it.

_Joseph,_

_You do agree with me that getting rid of your motor cycle like that is not the smartest thing to do, don't you? I am so very relieved that you are all right -ish. I hope you can come home soon. Meanwhile: rest (and that's an order!)_

_C_

He looked around for a bike and he concluded that C was right: he'd gotten rid of it. But why?

And who was C? From the handwriting he guessed that C was a woman and he reasoned that _Charlotte_ wasn't _C_, for she'd said that she'd _brought_ him a letter and not that she'd _written_ him one.

He felt sad.

When the doctor re-entered the room, she found her patient asleep, holding a letter.

She woke him up to execute her checks.


	2. Turn a different corner

Chapter 2 – Turn a different corner

The biker with the earring was woken again.

´Good evening sir, I'm doctor Dumas. I'm taking over doctor Valera's patients at night.´

Joe mumbled a greeting as he caught a dream by its tail.

Something about stamps?

A bright light shone in his eyes. He blinked.

´Do you remember your family name?´

Just like that he recalled it: ´Romero.´

´Good,´ the doctor said, adding: ´that must be quite a letter.´

He gestured towards the mould-made paper his patient held.

Joseph Romero looked at it. Stamps! He looked at the envelop on his night stand. It only said Joseph. No stamp.

´That's an elegant hand,´ the doctor commented.

Joseph nodded, feeling pleased that someone who knew him had such beautiful handwriting.

´This letter is written by 'C',´ he told doctor Dumas, ´but I can't remember who C is.´

´It will come,´ the doctor reassured, ´So I heard you're a biker? I'm one as well. What bike do you have?´

´I don't think I have it any more. It was a Yamaha.´

The doctor talked about the BMW he owned and the Yamaha he wanted to buy until the pained expression on Mr Romero's face made him stop. He asked his patient what was wrong.

´Why _do_ I remember what bike I had, and _can't_ I remember people?´

´The mind works in ways that make a motor cycle seem like a prehistoric tool compared to it. You shouldn't bother yourself. Have some sleep, and when I come back in an hour's time, you might already remember.´

As it happened Joseph did not. Not that he hadn't given it a thought: he'd been musing about his own name, hoping to recall the full name of C.

He felt that both Joseph and Joe suited him. He couldn't imagine _Charlotte_ -whoever she was- calling him Joseph.

But C _did_ address him by that name. Well, maybe someone out there called him Rapunsel for all he knew.

Someone out there...

There was a peeping sound in the corridor. A nurse's car, Joe thought. Or a cleaner's. He heard the doctor greet someone before entering his room.

The first thing Joe asked him was whether there had been someone else involved in the accident.

´I haven't heard of other traffic victims being brought in. My guess is that only you and Yamaha got hurt,´ the doctor said while executing his checks.

´I'm glad to hear that.´

´You're still holding that letter. Any memories yet?´

Joe read it again.

´None.´

´No clues? _Hold on mate, C _or _Love and kisses darling from your C_?´

Joe grinned. Handing the doctor the letter he said: ´It just says C, see?´

Dumas read it and laughed.

_´That's an order!´_ he quoted, ´Haha, you're married all right, I'll bet you a hundred.´

Joe showed him his hands.

The doctor raised his eyebrows meaningfully and showed _his_ hands.

´For fourteen years,´ he explained, ´I'm not wearing my ring because of hygiene. She's a surgeon and she doesn't wear hers either. Too much fuss. Maybe you have a reason for not wearing _your_ ring.´

Joe shook his head.

´I think I'm not married.´

´Because you would remember something as important as that?´

Joe nodded.

´It doesn't work that way,´ the doctor kindly told him.

´Let's assume that I have a wife. Which I don't. Why didn't she come to see me?´

OoOoOoO

At six thirty in the morning a cleaning woman's shift ended.

She was glad for it for she would make money. Heaps of money. Loads of money.

She took her bicycle and left the UH grounds.

Instead of going home she cycled towards the city's centre. She knew where she approximately had to be and she didn't mind taking a few wrong turnings. She'd get there. Heaps of money. Loads of money.

The woman's name was Elaine DuBois. The soon to be very rich Elaine DuBois.


	3. Tittle Tattle

Chapter 3 – Tittle Tattle

Elaine DuBois had reached her destination.

She entered the editorial office of _Tittle Tattle_, the only Genovian gossip magazine with headquarters in Antiem.

She'd rehearsed again and again what she would say and what she would forget to mention.

Yesterday evening her cat had thrown up in her sandals, something she'd found out just in time. When doing her shift she'd cursed both the cat and the shoes she had to wear. But right now the shoes were a blessing: they were black and had a two centimetres heel. Not the type of shoes cleaners wear.

She might have to say what kind of job she had later on, but she didn't want the journalists to think she was some poor stupid woman who didn't know what treasure she held.

She knew what to say, she knew what she wanted (heaps of money, loads of money) and when she told the porter to call Mr Valmont (from one of his columns she knew that he was an early bird), he didn't hesitate to do her bidding.

OoOoOoO

´Please sit down Mrs DuBois,´ Mr Valmont said.

´I always say that every story is worth while,´ he smiled, privately adding _provided it is edited, polished and spiced._

´My story _is_,´ Elaine told him.

´My story,´ she continued, ´will triple TT's sales.´

Claude Valmont studied the woman in front of him. Would she tell him she was pregnant with the Prime Minister's child? Or had she caught Viscount Mabrey in the arms of another man? Or, better still: could she prove that that bitch Elsie P was illiterate?

When the silence lasted he raised his eyebrows.

´It's about Queen Clarisse...´

´I'm all ears.´

The woman smiled.

´I've got a story that's gonna triple TT's sales. It's about Queen Clarisse. Why don't _you_ talk _first?_´

Claude eyed her. She was nervous, but she hid it well. She wouldn't fall for his tricks, not right now.

He nodded, making a little show of it, giving her some sighs and shaking his head as if he'd found his equal.

´I'll call the chief-editor,´ he gave in, ´But I do need _a little more_ to persuade him to come?´

´I work at a hospital. Yesterday a man was brought in who has a _special_ relationship with Queen Clarisse.´

Valmont grinned excitedly.

Elaine smiled and said: ´Better.´

OoOoOoO

The _Tittle Tattle_ building buzzed. As if the coffee machines elsewhere in the office had broken down, people walked to the machine near Claude Valmont's office. The fact that an unknown woman had come to speak to him didn't raise their curiosity, but the fact that chief editor Mr Sartre and TT's legal advisor, Miss Aboutaleb, had joined them _did_.

OoOoOoO

Mrs DuBois had been questioned again and again. It hadn't upset her. Having to tell the story repeatedly, it became true.

Miss Aboutaleb wanted to know at what time visiting hours started at the University Hospital.

Mrs DuBois told her that the first _shift_ was at 10.00 am.

´By then we can have someone drop by to check if Mrs DuBois is right.´

´I _am_!´

The legal expert sighed. The eyes of her colleagues were gleaming with anticipation. Mr Sartre pictured The Best Sold Issue Ever to be printed soon and Claude could only think of The Final Ending of Elsie P.

´I love this story,´ Claude said.

_Yes_, Miss Aboutaleb mused, _that's all it is, a story_. She wondered, not for the first time, how she'd ever ended up at a gossip magazine.

´Tell me all again,´ Mr Sartre invited Mrs DuBois.

´I was walking in a corridor, and I saw doctor Dumas enter the room of the Queen's Head of Security. There was a little stone or something in my shoe, and I leaned against the wall to remove it. And then I heard the doctor say _You're still holding that letter_. Then there was a rustling of paper and then the doctor said – as if he was quoting - _Love and kisses darling from your _C. Then he laughed and said _You're married all right.´_

Claude sighed happily.

´And then the doctor said _You have a reason for not wearing your ring_. And then I heard another voice say _Why didn't she come to see me? _There,´ Mrs DuBois said.

Miss Aboutaleb shook her head.

´What is it Mariyan?´

´First of all, C can stand for Cynthia or Claudette or Caroline and hundreds of other names and -´

´He's Queen _Clarisse's_ Head of Security!´ Mrs Dubois exclaimed, ´And he's gotta keep his marriage a secret. If he wed a Carry there's no need for that eh?´

Despite the fact that Claude nodded enthusiastically, Miss Aboutaleb continued her criticism:

´This is all hearsay. Someone eaves dropping outside a room, who can only have heard parts of a conversation, without knowing anything about the interaction between the speakers... Really gentlemen, I understand that this is tempting, but _publishing_ it – provided the man is who he is believed to be – is dangerous. You might sell thousands of extra issues, but when the Castle goes to court, you will lose everything and more. And guess how _Elsie_ will be laughing then Claude!´

Claude accused Mariyan of being afraid of a lawsuit.

´I'm no more afraid of a court fight than _you_ are of fantasizing about the Pulitzer prize!´

Mr Sartre recalled that his legal advisor preferred to settle cases outside the court of law. He also realised that it is easy to prove that you are married, but to prove that you are not, is not.

He smiled.

´Mrs DuBois,´ he said, ´you have given us a treasure.´

Before lunchtime Miss Aboutaleb found herself in want of a job.

...

...

Author's note: I know, neither the Queen nor Joe appeared in this chapter, but I needed it to set things in motion... The two leads will naturally claim the stage in the chapters to come.


	4. To light the touch paper

Chapter 4 – To light the touch paper

Much as the Queen had wanted to greet Joseph on his arrival at the Castle, her activities didn't allow for it. By the time she made her way to his apartment, she found herself accompanied by her aid, who seemed to believe that _the two of them_ were going to visit Joseph. The Queen, partly for not wanting to hurt Charlotte's feelings and partly because she didn't want to raise suspicion, refrained from telling Charlotte (who hadn't been able to welcome the patient home either) to see Joseph another time.

OoOoOoO

Joseph heard the sound of high heels approaching. He swallowed nervously.

The driver who had picked him up from hospital had had a silver badge on his jacket with a small crown and below that the letters RC entwined. It wasn't until _then_ that Joe had realised who had written him the puzzling letter. With the name he remembered his feelings for her. Rather than forgetting the woman who ruled his dreams he would have opted for having broken four limps.

A knock on the door and there she was: his Queen. Clarisse. Beaming with joy. He drank in her appearance. Moments passed in which they just stared at each other and when Charlotte (who'd been detained by one of her employees urgently needing a signature) entered, she believed that her liege and the Head of Security had already greeted each other. Her enthusiasm to see her friend made her hug him and she started chatting until she felt how inappropriate it was to do so in present company. She was about to make her apologies when – to her further embarrassment- her pager went off.

´It sounds as if someone needs your assistance,´ the Queen suggested. Something about her tone convinced Charlotte that her help was indeed required elsewhere.

After the door fell close behind her aid, the Queen walked toward Joseph. He swallowed hard when she cupped his cheek.

´I'm so glad you're safely back home Joseph,´ she said, ´When I first heard about the accident... Joseph! What is it?´

Joe wiped away his tears with his hand, backing away from his employer who wanted to do the same.

´A concussion can cause people to be -´ he sniffed.

´Emotional?´

He nodded, casting her a quick glance. She looked at him with concern.

´I read all about the symptoms,´ she softly said. To brighten his mood she added: ´And I will not hold it against you.´

Despite himself Joe grinned.

´It could have been far worse Joseph,´ she said, looking serious again.

´Ill weeds grow apace,´ Joe replied.

´Don't say that.´

Careful not to touch his broken arm she stepped close and kissed him on his lips. Joe's heart begun to thump like a sledgehammer but to prove that he realised it was just a friendly kiss, given because she was relieved that he was all right, he stepped away from her saying that he hoped to start working as soon as possible. From the silence following his remark and the fact that she cleared her throat before she spoke he concluded that her action had surprised her as much as him.

´That is for the doctor to decide Joseph. Shall we sit down?´

Joe didn't know what to make of it when his Queen casually seated herself next to him. She placed her left elbow on the back of the couch and turned her upper body toward him. It made Joe, who could still feel her lips on his, feel uncomfortable. He heard himself say that he was glad to be back home.

´I wish I had been able to visit you in hospital,´ she said.

When Joseph remained silent she added: ´You know that don't you?´

Joe didn't understand why his employer even mentioned it. Of course she couldn't have visited him: her schedule was loaded. Not looking at the enchanting picture he knew she made, he merely nodded. The Queen, thinking he was upset with her, started listing the many appointments and obligations she'd had until Joe interrupted her: ´I know how busy you are. I had not expected you to come and see me ma'am.´

Again he didn't look at her, this time because he was afraid that his eyes would reveal that he hadn't even remembered her. His formal reply caused the Queen to think that he was indeed angry with her. She was saved from commenting by a phone ringing.

Joseph rose to answer it.

´Yes?´

(...)

´Yes, thank you.´

(...)

´Yes, she is.´

(...)

´Yes I will. Goodbye.´

´That was Mr Delgana,´ he hesitatingly said after putting down the receiver.

´What did my spokesman have to say?´ the Queen helpfully replied.

´Posh looking man in his thirties?´ Joe tried, ´Likes ties?´

Still standing he felt comfortable enough to return her smile. The Queen relaxed a little.

´He requested to speak to you in your office.´

´Now?´

´As soon as possible.´

Though the Queen knew that Mr Delgana must have a reason for wanting to talk to her, she said: ´He will have to wait for a while. I came to see you after all darling.´

Joseph had to yawn uncontrollably and loudly and the Queen's last words were lost to him. The Queen didn't realise this and when he said that he fully understood that duty called, she felt lost.

´Are you all right Joseph?´

He nodded. ´I'm a little tired. I'd better go to bed. Thank you for coming to see me.´

´Do you need help...´ she gestured toward his left arm.

Joseph, confused that she wanted to help him undress, shook his head.

´I'll manage, thank you.´

OoOoOoO

The Queen stared at the advertisement her spokesman had handed her. It consisted of a becoming photo of herself and the words 'Is she still a widow? Find out in tomorrow's _Tittle Tattle_ – extra edition!' She asked her employee whether he'd discovered anything and Mr Delgana used fine phrases to say that the contents of _Tittle Tattle_ was a well kept secret.

´An extra edition...´ Her Majesty thoughtfully said, ´I don't like it at all.´

´I learned that the regular issue will be published the day after tomorrow,´ Mr Delgana offered, while wiping his hands on his pants.

´So they want to hit the jackpot twice.´

´The second issue will no doubt say that you are still a widow ma'am.´

The Queen shook her head, nearly giving her spokesman a heart attack. ´Seriously Mr Delgana, they wouldn't go through all the costs of printing an extra issue only to fool their readers with such a trick.´

Once her spokesman had left, the Queen crumpled up the advertisement. She anticipated some nasty days ahead, but right now she was more concerned about Joseph. When Charlotte, on returning from the hospital, had mentioned that he hadn't recognised her, the Queen had reminded her aid of the effects of a concussion. Charlotte had nodded without conviction and because the Queen had felt for her she'd said that had _she_ walked in to Joseph's hospital room, he probably wouldn't have recognised _her_ either. Charlotte had shaken her head, saying that Joe would never forget his Queen.

´A concussion can cause just that Charlotte,´ she had said, though she hadn't believed it herself. Joseph wouldn't forget _her_ any more than she could wipe _him_ from her memory. Such a romantic notion! She felt humbled and down knowing that all it took to change a relationship was a blow to the head.

OoOoOoO

´I need to discuss that with Her Majesty,´ Prime Minister Motaz said with a sigh as he gestured toward the thin _Tittle Tattle_ that was part of his wife's breakfast.

´What's there to discuss? It's a gossip!´

´Ay, but Parliament will question her.´

Mrs Motaz put some marmalade on her toast.

´So why don't _you_ leave her in peace?´

´Wish that I could.´

´There isn't a session today any way,´ Mrs Motaz reminded her husband.

´There will be one tomorrow. And by then that magazine will have revealed whom she married.´

´Really Sebastian, you don't believe it do you?´

Mrs Motaz put down her knife. ´I would be awfully romantic if she had got married,´ she mused, ´In a way that is. But really, this is our Queen we are talking about.´

With his oatmeal porridge needing to cool off, the Prime Minister reminded his wife that the Queen had added colour to her wardrobe.

´Ha!´ Sheila said, putting down her toast, ´That's what _Tittle Tattle_ says too. But what is she supposed to do? Dress in black for the rest of her life?´

´No no, of course not,´ her husband replied and without thinking he started eating and burned his tongue.

´You shouldn't worry. Remember – Are you all right?´

Mr Motaz gulped down a glass of water and nodded.

´Really sweetheart, that porridge is steaming hot. Now what was I – Oh yes: remember the Luna affair?´

Mr Motaz made a throatily sound.

´She handled that with one arm tied behind her back. She'll do the same today. And tomorrow.´

The Prime Minister replied that he had every confidence that Her Majesty would set things right. Still, the Luna affair had taught him two things: the first was that the subject of the Queen and a man caused nation wide excitement. The second was that his prim Queen was in fact a desirable woman. The combination would surely cause trouble once again.

After her husband had left to go to work, Sheila Motaz re-read the widow article. It was made up like a real article, neither having screaming capitals nor meaningful italics and the disguise made Sheila shake her head and firmly tell herself that it was simply ridiculous. Yes, _Tittle Tattle_ was right in saying that women in love take great care for their appearance, but Her Majesty never looked less than elegant. Yes, _Tittle Tattle_ was right in saying that in the past months the Queen seemed more happy, but His Majesty had died some years ago now and his widow had felt his loss more than anyone. It should please her people that she'd found cause to smile again. Clothes, a happy appearance: all fake 'proof' presented by a magazine wanting to make money. Mrs Motaz stared at a photo of her fair Queen. She wondered who would be named as Her Majesty's secret husband. Lord Jalva? The brother of the English King? Or perhaps -she blushed to even recall his name- General Coligny from the Luna pictures?

OoOoOoO

In the royal Castle, _Tittle Tattles_ had popped up as if someone had been growing them. The Queen's staff only purchased gossip magazines for information about actors and singers, the way men buy Penthouse for the interviews. But just as the picture of a half naked woman appeals to a serious reader, an article about Queen Clarisse's marital state will enthral her loyal servants.

_Tittle Tattle_ had angered them but at the same time they wondered who the Queen could have married. The fact that Mr Delgana was reported to be edgy and that Miss Kutaway hadn't been present for morning tea in the staff kitchen seemed to prove that there was something to conceal.

The Queen's aid, making an educated guess as to what would be going on downstairs, had kept to her office to avoid being questioned. She quietly listened to the radio. After the news (in which not a word was said about the subject of her interest) it was time for entertainment:

´This is radio 4U's Lucien's Fiddlesticks, with Lucien Dubois. It's Wednesday and I wanna talk about the economical situation in Nigeria... haha just kidding people. I can't resist the talk of town now can I? Is our lovely Queen Clarisse still a widow? That's what everyone wants to know. With me is the man who might reveal all: Claude Valmont from _Tittle Tattle_.´

Charlotte glanced at her watch. It would take a good eighty minutes for Her Majesty to return from opening an elementary school. She turned on the volume.

´But first: 'The look of love' folks.´

After the song Mr Dubois and Mr Valmont came to agree that people whose spouses have deceased may very well fall in love again.

´Lucien, have you ever noticed that the appearance of someone in love changes?´

´I think I did: you mean that his or her smile gets brighter?´

´Yes! Their eyes glance, women wear more feminine clothes...´

´Indeed! I had this neighbour who wore nothing but baggy outfits after his wife died. But then he fell in love and suddenly he started wearing suits! Great.´

´And he brightened up didn't he?´

´Absolutely. And it's not unusual!´

´Right,´ Charlotte mumbled, when Tom Jones started to sing, ´And that is supposed to prove that she got married?´

She wondered why Valmont and Dubois were still chatting about widows and widowers in general. After the musical intermission a professor of constitutional law joined the show and Charlotte came to realise that they were laying a foundation.

´Professor Perez, you wrote a book about the love life of our kings and queens and-´

´Actually Mr Dubois, I wrote a thesis about wedlock in the Renaldi family.´

´OK. Now is there something the royal marriages have in common over the centuries?´

´Most marriages were marriages of convenience.´

´No love matches at all?'

´Well, you see, there's a lot at stake when a king marries. Politics have always been considered to be more important than love.´

´I guess that the most important thing about a royal marriage is producing legal offspring, right Professor?´

´Well yes I -´

´But once there was an heir and a couple of spares, couldn't a king _re_marry for love?´

´As I said, there's a lot at stake when a king marries. No matter how many children he has, Parliament always needs to approve.´

´I definitely want to hear more about that, but first we'll get some Sinatra. And folks: if you wanna say something about the subject, give me a call!´

OoOoOoO

Charlotte was having lunch with Joe in his sitting room. She was eager to trigger his memory and she was happy to learn that her friend sometimes only needed a few words to recall things.

When Charlotte once again checked her watch Joe urged that if she had an appointment, she shouldn't feel obliged to stay with him, much as he liked her company.

´Her Majesty will return from an outdoor appointment in twenty minutes,´ Charlotte explained, ´I hope all went well.´

´Why?´ Joe asked, alarmed, ´Was there a threat?´

´No no no. I just hope that the press isn't going to harass her. There was an article in a gossip magazine saying that she is no longer a widow.´

´Que? Is it true?´

Charlotte nervously laughed. ´You'd say that between the two of us we'd know. We're with her all the time.´

´We aren't _now_.´

Charlotte shook her head. ´She _isn't_ married,´ she told Joe's back for he had walked to a window to stare outside. ´She wouldn't do that without consulting the Prime Minister, now would she? And her sons as well.´

Charlotte didn't voice her belief that the Queen would surely have told _her_ too. ´Of course, the _people_ think she might have married,´ she said, ´On the radio they named one after the other bachelor who could be her husband.´

Joe feared he might cry again and rather than doing that, he turned angry.

´Damn!´ he said, hitting the window-frame.´She can't have found herself a husband!´

Not wanting Charlotte to think that he was jealous he turned to face her: ´She's a king's widow! Parliament will sooner lock her in a convent than allow her to marry!´

OoOoOoO

´Her Majesty told me that the school had a good atmosphere and that the children had been kind,´ Charlotte told Viscountess Margoli who had been on duty as a lady-in-waiting that morning.

The Viscountess sighed.

´I admire her composure. On the way back she merely commented that little pitchers have long ears.´

Charlotte gave the noblewoman an encouraging look.

´I was glad there weren't any journalists around when Her Majesty talked to the pupils,´ the noblewoman whispered in reply, ´This child said that his mother had said that she hoped the Queen hadn't married some gigolo. And he asked Her Majesty what a gigolo was! I felt like hitting that stupid boy, but she smiled and said that she wasn't married. And then that brat said so there won't be a party Queen? Well Miss Kutaway, for the next couple of days it won't be party time at all!´


	5. The latest hot gossip

Authorˈs note: in this chapter Queen Clarisse's friend Queen Beatrix makes her appearance. On 28 January the chapter was nearly completed when the real-life Queen of the Netherlands unexpectedly announced that she would resign. I was sad to hear it. Long live Queen Beatrix! Hurrah!

Chapter 5 – The latest hot gossip

´What if his memory wonˈt return? What if his personality has changed? It happens you know after a concussion.´

´Thatˈs two what ifs Clarisse,´ Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands told her friend over the phone. ´He barely got out of the hospital. It could take weeks before he starts remembering.´

´I know.´

´I understand that youˈre anxious but thereˈs no reason to worry for what may or may not be.´

´I know. Itˈs just that he looked at me as if I were just his employer. I kissed him, I called him darling. No response at all…´

Clarisse stopped walking up and down her suite and seated herself. Her dog sat down next to her chair. Clarisse sighed heavily. ´I donˈt know what to do B. Wait until he remembers? _Flirt_ with him?´

´He will be fine C. Give it some time.´

Clarisse caressed Mauriceˈs head.

´Now for something completely different,´ Beatrix said, ´I bet youˈre married to my general.´

´Thatˈs what I think also. But why now?´

´The press mosquitoes will pretend to have been investigating your affair thoroughly. Horrible gossips! I am sure though that in a weekˈs time it will be forgotten. Maybe it will even result in something good: the gossip article might trigger Josephˈs memory C.´

Before she went to bed Clarisse thought about what Beatrix had said. _If_ the article caused Joseph to remember that they were mates she wouldnˈt mind the gossip at all. Clarisse _hoped_ Tittle Tattle to marry her to general Coligny for though Joseph did not seem to remember being her lover, he might recall being jealous of the Dutchman.

OoOoOoO

Charlotte entered the Queenˈs office at 8:25 am, five minutes before she was due to arrive. She wanted Her Majesty to have a moment to read Tittle Tattle before Mr Jonas and Mr Delgana entered.

The Queen greeted her aid and then asked: ´So, whom did I marry?´

Rather than answering the question Charlotte handed her Queen her magazine.

The Queen was not surprised to see the headline on the cover: _a widow no longer_. Pages 3 to 8 showed opinions of Genovians who had been interviewed by the gossip magazine. They had replied to the question: can the Queen remarry? The Queen turned pages until she reached an article by Claude Valmont.

_"We all noticed how happy Queen Clarisse looks nowadays. She is full of vigour and bares similarities to a woman in love."_

Trying to keep the tension building inside her at bay the Queen said to herself that repetition was a cheap way to fill a page.

_"Of course a woman in her position, who is watched all the time, doesnˈt have many chances to meet someone. But like so many people she might have fallen in love at work."_

Chances that I married Bˈs general are getting slim, the Queen mused.

_"Widowed baron Lamboley may very well have caught her eye, but then, his function as chamberlain for the Winter palace does not bring him into daily contact with Her Majesty."_

The Queen impatiently moved her eyes to the right bottom of page 10 where she expected to find the name of her husband. First she was drawn to "_24/7_" standing out in between the letters. Next there were two words practically flashing for attention: "_Joe Romero_".

_Oh no! _Clarisse thought.

_" Turn the page to see them together…"_

Queen Clarisseˈs heartbeat slowly decreased when she found that Tittle Tattle had done its utmost best to select suggestive photos of her _public_ life. In all pictures spread out over five pages she smiled radiantly and Joseph was there to guard her, hold her elbow or place his hand on her lower back. She, who knew how his nearness affected her, keenly felt how convincing these pictures could be. But then: _she_ smiled at her _subjects_ and _Joseph_ˈ_s_ dark glasses revealed whether he was looking lovingly at _her_ – as the subscripts suggested- or whether he was checking for danger.

The Queen swallowed a nervous giggle. What she was looking at was perfectly innocent compared to pictures that could have been made in her suite in El chalet. With a slightly trembling hand she turned the page in search of _proof_ for her marriage. Valmont first gave his readers some background information on Mr Romero. He informed his readers that the Queenˈs bodyguard had an accident resulting in a concussion as well as a broken arm and that a courtier had brought the patient clothes, toiletries and a _letter_.

_"My source happened to overhear a conversation between a doctor and the Queen's head of security about this message. The doctor said: You're still holding that letter. Then there was a rustling of paper and the doctor quoted: Love and kisses darling from your C._

_Love and kisses darling from your C! I ask you dear reader: what does that make you think? As I wrote before sources at court acknowledge the Queen and Mr Romero to be good friends. But you have seen the pictures of the Queen and Mr Romero and friends do not say "love and kisses darling", do they? __The doctor told Joe Romero what I would have told him also: You're married all right. At this point Mr Romero, having a concussion after all, must have shown the doctor his hands, for the doctor remarked: You have a reason for not wearing your ring._

_Our Queen fell in love and without asking Parliament's permission she married her admirer. Of course her husband can't wear her ring! Of course our shrewd Queen wouldn't sign a revealing letter with her name!_

_Mr Romero, convinced by the doctor's logic, in a sad tone of voice said: Why didn't she come to see me? _

_Had he not had a concussion he wouldn't have wondered why his royal wife didn't visit him any more than he would have given his explosive letter to a stranger."_

The article didnˈt end here but Mr Jonas and Mr Delgana entered and the Queen had read enough anyway.

´Good morning gentlemen.´

She rose, dropped the magazine on her desk and gestured the men and Charlotte toward a sitting area. The three courtiers seated themselves on a sofa and the Queen sat opposite them on a chair facing the door. Even though she felt strained she couldnˈt help but think that they looked like schoolchildren seeing the headmistress, especially since the high back of the sofa made them look small.

´Tittle Tattle claims I got married,´ the Queen started the meeting. ´I did not. Mr Jonas, what do you make of it?´

´I took the liberty to contact the magazineˈs legal advisor maˈam. She advised against publishing the article and as a result she no longer works for Tittle Tattle.´

The Queen brightened up a bit. ´Go on,´ she urged.

´Miss Aboutaleb gave me the name of the doctor it concerns. She believes that the source _did_ hear the doctor and Mr Romero talk, but that she only "remembered" what would suit a best-selling story.´

´Have you contacted the doctor yet?´

´No, I have not maˈam.´

´Could you do so please? Before I face Parliament I need to know as much as possible about the conversation. You can use Miss Kutawayˈs office.´

´Yes Your Majesty.´

Mr Jonas left.

´Wouldnˈt it be quicker when instead of interviewing the doctor Mr Jonas or someone else would ask Mr Romero about it maˈam?´ Charlotte shyly asked.

´Joseph feels bad about having lost his memory. If he hears about the article he will also feel guilty for what was no doubt an innocent conversation with his doctor.´

Addressing her spokesman the Queen asked whether the media contacted the castle already. Mr Delgana said that they had and that he had replied "no comment".

The Queen nodded and -to fill the time until Mr Jonasˈs return - inquired after her schedule for the coming days. Charlotte, who had no way of knowing that only one in every four words she uttered entered the Queenˈs ear, talked until there was a knock on the door. An officer announced that the Prime Minister had arrived. The Queen nodded and a moment later on Mr Motaz entered. The Queen gestured the politician to sit down and informed him about the whereabouts of her legal advisor.

´And Mr Romero will inform us about _his_ side of the story,´ the Prime Minister said, seating himself on the sofa.

´Excuse me?´ the Queen said, ´Joseph has a concussion and I donˈt want him worrying about a gossip!´

Mr Motaz hasted to explain that before he had entered the office he had seen Mr Romero enter the corridor. ´From what Your Majesty just said I concluded that - ´

The door flung open.

´Are we married?´ Joe cried out. He carried a Tittle Tattle with him.

Charlotte wanted to vanish. The Prime Minister and Mr Delgana held their breath.

´The note you sent was friendly but not that of a wife. Then again when you greeted me… Are we married?´

´We are _not_ married Joseph.´

Joe wasnˈt stopped by his Queenˈs tone of voice. ´Are you just saying that because the people donˈt _want_ you to re-marry?´

´Joseph,´ the Queen cautioned her bodyguard.

´Only twenty per cent of the people would like it if you did. The rest is against it.´

Joseph quoted from the magazine: "She canˈt just remarry like that!" or "A Queen must be married to a King" or -

Searching for a powerful quote he walked toward the Queen. Looking at her he read aloud: "If that woman remarried she should resign immediately." The Queen moved her eyes from Joseph to the sofa. He paid no attention to it.

´Are we _really_ not married?´

´I am not married Joseph.´

Joseph opened his mouth to reply. Not expecting any help from the three wide-eyed witnesses, the Queen rose, causing them do the same. The movement in the corner of his eye alerted Joseph. He positioned himself between the Queen and the possible danger.

´The Prime Minister, Charlotte and Mr Delgana are here to discuss the gossip.´

Joseph sharply turned around to face her. ´_Is_ it a gossip or are you dumping me?´ he tearfully said. He then sank to his knees and started to cry.

Feeling that the Queen needed a moment to recover, a flabbergasted Charlotte told the Prime Minister and Mr Delgana that the doctor she spoke to at the hospital had given her a folder and that the folder said that people suffering from a concussion could get _very_ emotional. She babbled that she had seen the folder at the Queenˈs desk and her attentive listeners followed her there. In the background Her Majesty softly talked to Mr Romero.

The folder went from Mr Motaz to Mr Delgana. After a while Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see whether is was yet an option to return. The Queen nodded at her. As Charlotte and the gentlemen walked back Mr Jonas re-entered.

The Queen checked her watch.

´We have fifteen minutes before Parliamentˈs session starts. Mr Jonas.´

The jurist said that the doctor was very sorry for what happened.

´Undoubtedly. What about the overheard conversation?´

Mr Jonas cleared his throat.

´According to the doctor Mr Romero was upset for not knowing who sent him a letter.´

The Queen felt nauseous. Mr Jonas glanced at the head of security, but the man with the black sling didnˈt pay attention.

´The doctor suggested the letter could be sent by a friend, or perhaps a wife. The words from the article _were_ uttered, but _not at all_ in the way suggested by Mr Valmont. The doctor is willing to make a statement if you so desire.´

Joseph started blinking.

OoOoOoO

´The folder from the hospital was very useful,´ the Prime Minister said as he and the Queen walked toward the House of Parliament. ´I didnˈt know that people suffering from a concussion could have so many different symptoms.´

The Queen knew that the politician wasnˈt just making small talk. She carefully phrased her reply.

´So it is _clear_ to you now?´

´Yes Your Majesty. ´

Despite the affirmative the Queen picked up on Motazˈs hesitation.

´There will be no surprises for you when we face Parliament.´

Mr Motaz cast a glance at the Queen who looked straight ahead. He opened his mouth but he couldnˈt decide whether he should apologize or whether he should state that it was his responsibility as a Prime Minister to know the truth. For half a corridor the only sound heard was the click-clacking of the Queenˈs high heels. As they neared the entrance to the House of Parliament the Queen said: ´Are you ready Prime Minister?´

The man cleared his throat. ´Yes Your Majesty.´

´Good. For I can hear them howl already.´


	6. Not in the best of moods

Chapter 6 – Not in the best of moods

Viscount Mabrey approaching the speaker's place like a predator cornering a prey brought back some memories for the Queen. She meant to show the Viscount that he wasn't the only one with teeth and claws but she was very aware of the fact that an MP was given a larger tether than a Queen.

´Your Majesty, an article was published today saying that you are married.´

´I am aware of the gossip Viscount.´

´Is it true?´

´I am a widow,´ the Queen said. ´And I suggest we now continue with politics rather than gossip.´

The MPs shook their heads and whispered their disapproval. The Viscount raised his hand in an apologetic gesture.

´Yes… I would like to do so ma'am if it was not for the fact that _Mrs Romero_ would be anxious to drop the subject too.´

The MPs hummed in agreement.

´If you valued the _Queen Regent_'_s _word over that of a gossip, _you_ would do the same.´

The Viscount coughed. ´It's understandable that a woman in love may do things a Queen Regent would rather forget about.´

´Such as marrying without asking Parliament's approval?´

´Indeed ma'am.´

´There is no register that filed a marriage of mine, except for the Pyran register of 14 September 1954.´

´Indeed indeed. The article made me think that one day you might consider marriage. Do you?´

´Are you _proposing_ Viscount?´

The Queen's remark was greeted with hilarity. She welcomed the response though she knew she didn't control the flock.

´My esteemed colleagues seem to find this laughable. I think that a nobleman makes a better choice than a bodyguard.´

The MPs turned serious again. The Queen remained silent.

´Don't you agree ma'am?´

´I heard you Viscount.´

´Have you heard Genovia? According to the article your subjects agree with me. They feel that it would greatly harm the monarchy when a Queen-Regent remarries a commoner.´

´Discussing the topic is a waste of time for I do not have wedding plans.´

And I don't, Queen Clarisse thought. Joseph and I never mentioned marriage.

´Please ma'am, don't be upset with me for acting like the devil's advocate, but if you were already married, you would also _not_ have such plans.´

Clarisse couldn't bring herself to repeat what she had just said.

´I just told you that I did not secretly marry.´

´I'm confident that the Genovian registers will not show a thing. Parliament's approval – and you won't mind if I mention it – is needed regardless of _where_ a marriage takes place. Genovia deserves to know the truth. Checking the registers all over the globe is the devil's own work so- .´

´You just offered yourself as his advocate Viscount,´ the Queen interrupted with a smile, ´Why not do the job for him?´

Laughter.

Her Majesty pleasantly continued: ´I would advise you against it though: it will be tedious and in the end you will conclude that I'm _not_ married.´

To Mabreyˈs chagrin the MPs made approving sounds.

´I take your word on that ma'am,´ the Viscount concluded in a tone of voice that belied his words.

The Viscount returned to his seat but others were eager to take the stand on the same topic. The third MP was someone the Queen had not expected to face: Lord Jalva. He admired her but he gave a brief class on wedlock in the Renaldi family and he concluded that he knew that Her Majesty, coming from one of the oldest noble families in the country, would not marry without Parliament's approval.

The Queen read between the lines. When she finally returned to her office, she felt a headache coming up, which developed further after she read the readersˈ comments in _Tittle Tattle_.

OoOoOoO

After lunch the Queen had just opened a file to get to work when her private line rang.

´Yes?´

´Good afternoon Mother.´

´Darling! How are you?´

´I'm fine Mother. Say, this gossip is even nastier than the previous one, isn't it?´

´Yes it is Philippe.´

´It's smart of them to have picked Joe.´

The Queen remained silent.

´After all you wouldn't be the first to enter a mésalliance with a _bodyguard_. ´

´I thought you liked Joseph.´

´I would hire him as my head of security without thinking twice. But I wouldn't _marry_ him.´

After the Luna pictures the Queen had found out that her youngest son laughed at the thought of her having feelings for another man. It had made her think that she had to prepare him. She had even told Joseph that there was _work to be done_. Her first excuse _not_ to inform her children about her relationship with Joseph had been that said relationship was very green. And when they _had_ become lovers she did not want to leave fairy-tale land. It was convenient that her Prince Charming had never asked her to be introduced to her sons in his new capacity.

´I would be very surprised if you did,´ the Queen said when she realised her son was waiting for her to reply.

Philippe laughed.

´Will you sue the gossip magazine?´

´Parliament is off my back. Why should I give _Tittle Tattle_ more attention?´

Philippe grinned and switched to another topic.

OoOoOoO

In the popular talk show _GV today_ VIPs shared memories about King Rupert. The artist Jerome Cangrejo, who had a talent for appearing near royalty on pictures, talked about what a handsome couple King Rupert and Queen Clarisse had made. When the host reminded him off old gossip concerning the late King's affairs, Cangrejo waved that away as being vile lies. ´I was privileged to spend time with Their Majesties and trust me: they had a bond. A warm, loving bond. They belonged toget-.´

The Queen used her remote to turn off her TV. Elsewhere in the castle Joseph did the same.

OoOoOoO

In the late afternoon of the following day the Queen informed Charlotte that the two of them were going to see Joseph. The injured bodyguard insisted on making them tea and he declined Charlotte's offer to help him. As a result the Queen's saucer wasn't dry, but she pretended not to notice.

´How do you feel Joseph?´ Her Majesty asked.

Joseph had called doctor Valera to ask her for how long his emotions would get the better of him. Her answer hadn't pleased him. He had tried to improve his mood by exercising in the gym, but with one arm in a sling that hadn't been a success. He felt like a fool and a failure.

´Is your man-servant helpful?´

´I wish I wouldn't need one,´ Joseph said. He was disgusted with himself for sounding sulkily.

´I wouldn't like being an "invalid" either Joseph. But I am sure that when _I_ would break my arm _you_ would urge me to accept help,´ the Queen said.

Joseph again made no reply.

´I know it is different for me, for I always have maids around anyway.´

Joseph made an effort to return the Queen's smile. He started blinking.

´You received many cards,´ the Queen observed. ´May I go and see them?´

´Of course ma'am.´

The Queen gestured Charlotte to follow her. Behind their backs Joe dried his eyes. When he had calmed down he rose and addressed his Queen.

´Your Majesty,´ Joseph started.

The Queen turned around. Charlotte walked to the other window where more cards wished Joseph to "get well soon!"

´I am sorry that my conversation at the hospital caused such trouble. And I deeply regret my behaviour of yesterday morning. It was embarrassing and I wish I could undo it.´

´Speak no more of it Joseph. I understand that the article must have come as a shock for someone who lost his memory. Combined with your… delicate mood of present… Please don't feel guilty about it.´

Joseph cleared his throat to reply but he reasoned it was better to simply incline his head. When he yawned the Queen saw it fit to end the visit.

OoOoOoO

Late in the evening the Queen urgently needed a cup of Darjeeling. Her hand reached for the phone on her desk when she thought the better of it.

´You can use a walk Clarisse,´ she told herself.

The Queen happened to wear flat shoes and she quietly made it to the kitchen. She was just about to enter when she heard voices.

´Why do you think he doesn't come down here anymore Mrs Danieli?´ a woman asked.

´He's not yet recovered is he? And he's a proud man. Easy on the flower Anna!´

The Queen found herself incapable of moving.

´I heard someone say that Mr Romero stays away from the kitchen because the Queen wants to prepare us that he now belongs upstairs.´

´Nonsense! I admit, Mr Romero is a fine man, but I agree with Jerome Cangrejo that -. Well… He's a servant, like us, ainˈt he? Servants shouldn't… you know… ´

The Queen decided she didn't need tea after all. With a blush on her cheeks she made it back to her office where she sat behind her desk with her face in her hands. The tick-tack of her watch made her check the time. Nearly eleven. She hesitated for a moment and then dialled a number.

OoOoOoO

´Ja?´

´Hello B. It's me.´

´C! How are you?´

Clarisse sighed.

´A little bird told me that your session went well,´ Beatrix said.

´What little bird?´

´Someone from my embassy. I asked him to attend the session.´

´You didn't!´

Clarisse felt better all of the sudden.

´What's the point of having an Ambassador in peaceful Genovia if you can't have him execute tasks?´ Beatrix asked.

Clarisse giggled.

´Something else happened though,´ Beatrix said.

´Yes,´ Clarisse said. ´I opened an exhibition today and _heaps_ of journalists showed up. They shouted questions at me. _Are you married to someone else_ and _Will Joe get the sack_ and _Will he speak his mind about the marriage talk.´_

´So you did a royal Reagan?´

Clarisse grinned. A royal Reagan meant no response whatsoever, not even pretending not to hear.

´Yes. But after I had opened the exhibition I heard people talk behind my back. Normally it's just _She is taller than I thought she_'_d be_, or _She does have a lot of freckles_ or, well you know. Nice things mostly. But today I heard _It wouldn_'_t be right if she would do it_ or _The King would turn in his grave_. I told Parliament that I'm not married, but it seems that the gossip is just _too_ good. Even Charlotte -´

´Did she _believe_ it?´

´I used her as a chaperone when I visited Joseph this afternoon. Even when _I_'_m_ around she usually calls him _Joe_. Not today though. She wasn't calling him Mr either, or sir or so, but still.´

´Playing safe.´

´_Exactly_!´

´Might she know a little more than the average courtier?´

´No! She's never been at El chalet.´

´A look, a glance…´

´No B. We are careful up to the point where it gets ridiculous.´

Beatrix thought it best to drop the subject.

´How is Joseph?´

Clarisse sighed and slowly said: ´Very emotional. I never saw him this way. It's unsettling. He – Yesterday he read the article, Lord knows how he got it, and he _stormed_ into my office and cried out: Are we married? Motaz was there and Charlotte and my spokesman as well.´

´Ow! And there I was thinking everything had gone smoothly. Did Joseph believe you when you replied negatively?´

´Not immediately. But he is a modest man. And besides, he doesn't recall does he? I feel bad that I'm glad for that now.´

´It is very convenient. And you know C, by the time his memory returns he may have forgotten about the article's aftermath.´

´He might. I am sorry I can't just be around him more. He hates it that he can't work and that his emotions get the better of him. ´

´If he _remembered_ he would understand that you can't spend a lot of time with him. Now that he doesn't remember, he would find it awkward should you visit him every day.´

Clarisse admitted to herself that B had a point. She told her friend about her son's call.

´He may be a grown man; he spoke as a child,´ Beatrix replied. ´Don't let Philippe's anxieties rule you.´

Clarisse hesitated to ask her friend how _she_ felt about queens marrying commoners. Instead she inquired about Bˈs granddaughters. A few minutes later on the friends ended their conversation. When Clarisse went to bed she felt almost cheerful. At night she dreamt that Joseph was crying and that she yelled at him to behave. She woke up feeling guilty.

OoOoOoO

During the week following _Tittle Tattle_'s best-selling issue ever, the Queen learned that to her subjects the topic of her re-marriage wasn't yesterday's news. The background buzz she had told her friend about continued still and people didn't stop writing letters to newspapers in reply to letters in reply to letters about why the Queen-Regent shouldn't remarry.

At the audience several people told her that King Rupert was not out of their minds. To every one of them she replied that she was grateful to hear it and that she herself thought of the King often.

And she did: a few times a month her senses picked up something that reminded her of him. In the first six months or so after his death, she had felt lost. Rupert had been her friend and she missed him. Gradually she had settled in her new life. And last year there was Joseph. He had always been there of course. As a trusted bodyguard. As an employee whose company she appreciated. As a friend. It had been B who had made her acknowledge that he was the man who made her skin tickle without even touching her.

For the first time she had chosen for herself. For the first time she had embraced que sera sera. She had lived in the present and she had loved every second of it. Having faced the future she couldn't help but wonder though: if she could go back in time would she do it again?


	7. The prodigal son

Chapter 7 – The prodigal son

´Do you like being in charge Mr Teballi?´

The acting head of security wondered whether Viscountess Margoli was making conversation or whether she was mocking him.

´I'm not really in charge madam. Only until the chief returns.´

The Viscountess smirked. ´The _physical_ recovery of the _chief_ may take several weeks alone.´

Teballi shook his head. ´He won't stay away for long.´

As if she had not heard his reply the Viscountess mused: ´And I suppose it's up to Her Majesty to decide if and when he may return.´

Charlotte entered the meeting room.

´Of course he will return,´ she said, not doubting the identity of _he_.

´Does our Queen confide in you Miss Kutaway?´ the noblewoman asked.

´I am not aware of Her Majesty planning to fire Mr Romero,´ Charlotte replied in a tone that was meant to silence the lady-in-waiting.

´It might be a wise thing though. With that horrible woman having found out that he left the country and the article she wrote about it… She just wants to get back at Valmont of course. Still - ´

´I suggest we start our meeting,´ Charlotte said.

OoOoOoO

´As if she's your boss!´ Stephanie baroness d'Artagnan cried out when Caroline Viscountess Margoli had repeated what Miss Kutaway had said.

´Exactly! That little upstart isn't going to shut _me_ up,´ Caroline replied. She took a sip of her sherry.

´What is all this about Romero?´ Stephanie quickly inquired. ´Elsie P suggests that the Queen sent him away to stop the gossip.´

´For all the good _that_ did. Penworthy is mistaken though. The Queen allowed Romero to have a holiday because he was unfit to work. A maid caught him crying in the gardens! He must have hurt his head pretty badly. His man-servant said -´

´He has a man-servant?´

´To help him dress. Other people have to manage all by themselves when they break an arm. It was considerate of Her Majesty to assign him a helper.´

The lady-in-waiting's words were more or less neutral but her expression wasn't.

´She did that did she?´ Stephanie said with glee. ´I wonder why…´

´They are friends.´

Stephanie picked up the newspaper with Elsie Penworthy's article and studied Joe Romero's picture.

´He is… attractive. In a way.´

Caroline made a throatily sound. ´Half the women at the castle want to date him.´

´Does _she_?´

´They are friends.´

Stephanie threw the paper to her friend. ´It's just the two of us!´

´Would _you_ have married a commoner?´

´I'm not thinking about _marriage_ Caroline.´

The Viscountess giggled. ´Who would have thought the Queen to become the centre of a romantic gossip _again_?´

´I always thought that she was an Ice Queen but she _is_ a fine looking woman…´

´She aged well and she is gracious. Still, her having a lover -´

´Is that what the gossip at the castle is about?´ Stephanie said. She applauded herself for her casual tone of voice.

´Some people think that there's no smoke without a fire.´

´How ignorant those servants are!´

´Indeed! Of course I investigated it. And who better to question than - ´

´Miss Kutaway?´

´Good Lord! She may fancy herself important, but _she_ doesn't see the royal sheets or the love marks on Her Majesty's body, does she?´

´Caroline!´ Stephanie shrieked in delight.

The Viscountess smirked. ´Unlike Missy K the dress-maids know _everything_.´

Stephanie leaned toward her friend.

´I questioned them without them being aware of it of course. Now rest assured: there is _nothing_ going on between our Queen and Romero. And that is the way it should be.´

´Absolutely,´ the disappointed baroness replied. She had no delightful information to share with Arthur Mabrey but she hoped the nobleman would appreciate her efforts.

OoOoOoO

´Do you know what this means?´ Joseph asked his sister-in-law. He gestured toward a picture of himself in the local newspaper. The photo showed him talking to some of his acquaintance on the village square. Sofia reasoned that Joseph referred to the subscript which mentioned that the Genovian Queen had denied having married him. She was not sure what sort of an answer her brother-in-law expected her to give, but Joseph didn't require her to reply.

´Our town can't boast to have famous citizen, so someone like me will have to do,´ Joseph said with a twinkle in his eye.

´You're the bodyguard of a head of state!´ Sofia exclaimed. ´Most men envy you!´

Joseph shrugged but Sofia sensed that he was pleased by her defending his stature and she continued: ´Remember four years ago when you went to your old high-school for the job fair? Your classroom was always loaded with children and you had to give two extra performances.´

Sofia's phrasing made Joseph laugh.

´How many of those teenagers do you think chose a career like mine? I doubt there's even _one_.´

´_You_ weren't a head of security at age twenty either.´

Joseph smiled and inclined his head in agreement.

´So you remember talking to those children?´

´Yes I do.´

Sofia hesitated. Before his arrival Joseph had mentioned in a call that he was emotional now and then but neither Sofia nor her husband Miguel had been prepared to see him cry when he entered their house. His obvious embarrassment at his "weak" behaviour had made his family decide not to mention the accident and not to tease him about the gossip. Right now Joseph looked relaxed and his expression seemed to invite Sofia to talk about his illness.

´What's still missing?´ Sofia tentatively asked.

´Eight, nine months.´

´That long?!´

´It was a little inconvenient when it came to interacting with colleagues, but at least I didn't lose touch with the requirements of my job.´

Sofia picked up on his first remark: ´But most colleagues have worked at the castle for _years_, haven't they? So -´

´True,´ Joseph interrupted, ´But during the first days after the accident…´

´Your memory needed to reboot?´

´Ha! Where did you learn that phrase? I thought you hated computers?´

´My children don't.´

Joseph returned Sofia's smile but she could tell that he forced himself to.

´I didn't even know my own name,´ Joseph confessed. He swallowed hard.

A startled Sofia wanted to hug him but she thought the better of it.

´And you let the chance to style yourself Juan Alberto Enrique Pablo d'Parma go?´

After a moment Joseph laughed.

´I never thought of it. And I wouldn't have had much time to find myself a name. Charlotte Kutaway came to see me not long after I'd arrived in the hospital and she called me Joe. She brought me a letter that said _Joseph_ and that seemed fitting too.´

Sofia smiled in reply. ´Coffee?´

´Coffee Romero... No, that's just not right.´

Sofia grinned. She rose to walk to the sink and in passing Joseph she briefly put her hand on his shoulder.

Joseph picked up the paper again.

´It's Thursday today,´ he discovered, ´I thought it was Wednesday.´

´I lose track of time too when I'm on holiday.´

The door of the refrigerator closed with a thud.

´That letter!´ Sofia exclaimed. Joseph turned to face her.

´Was that the letter from - ´

Ashamed at how eager she sounded Sofia stopped talking.

´Yes,´ Joseph said. He folded the paper. ´It said that she was glad that I wasn't injured badly.´

´That's nice.´

Sofia poured coffee and thought of something more to say. She settled for: ´Her being so busy, it's really kind that she took the time to write you a note.´

´Yes. And right after she heard about my accident she told Charlotte to bring me clothes. And Charlotte is her personal secretary. She could have sent _anyone_.´

´Well, you are friends, right? You and the Queen?´

´Friends. Yes.´

_Not in my too vivid dreams though,_ Joseph thought.

´Here you are,´ Sofia said as she placed Joseph's cup in front of him, ´I didn't believe,_ we_ didn't believe that gossip Joseph. You know that don't you?´

Joseph didn't eye Sofia but he nodded and said: ´I wish the people in Genovia would not have taken it seriously either. I'm sure the aftermath upset Her Majesty.´

´It didn't get _you_ in trouble, did it? She won't sent you- ´

´No. You want me to go with you to buy dog food? Those bags are very heavy.´

´With your arm?´

Joseph looked down and saw his sling. Angry with himself he tried a sip of his scolding hot coffee. ´Caramba!´

OoOoOoO

When the topics of her meeting with the Prime Minister had been ticked off, the Queen inquired after Mr Motaz's weekend. His tale about his attempt to go surfing made her smile.

´I almost forgot ma'am but will the head of security be able to accompany you on your state visit to the Netherlands?´

´That is in five weeks from now. I contacted Joseph yesterday and he said he felt much better already.´

´I'm glad to hear that. The acting head of security is doing a fine job I believe?´

´He does.´

´Good. Good.´ The Prime Minister cleared his throat. ´Perhaps it would be an idea to let him get some experience in being in charge of security during a state visit?´

´Perhaps it would be an idea to let my life be entirely ruled by gossip?´

The Prime Minister blushed but he didn't wave a white flag just yet. ´With the Luna affair it was clear that the gossip was ill-based.´

´Excuse me?!`

´Had general Coligny been head of _your_ military house instead of Queen Beatrix's than things would have stood differently. Surely you can see that ma'am?´

´Don't patronize me Mr Motaz.´

The Queen glared at her Prime Minister. He looked away.

´I realise,´ the Queen said, ´that on the first day Joseph will work as my bodyguard again, I will have to face a small army of photographers. It will _not_ be pleasant. I'll get over it.´

´Yes Your Majesty.´

OoOoOoO

The restaurant at half an hour's drive from their village was famous in the entire region and the Romero family enjoyed the chef's dishes. They celebrated the birthday of Joseph's youngest brother Federico and the family was complete except for Miguel's infant granddaughter.

The conversations going on were merry but Joseph's mind drifted off to Pyrus until Sofia nudged him.

´Relax, you're on holiday,´ she softly said.

´I know.´

Sofia smiled. ´You touched your ear in search for your ear-plug.´

´Ah.´

Joseph glanced at the rest of the party, but no one seemed to have noticed his behaviour. He told himself to focus on the here and now.

´- only through e-mail and he thinks he has a relationship with her,´ Federico's daughter Christina said.

´What if she is like Cyrano?´ her cousin Magdalena asked.

´Cyrano?´

´From the play. The man with the nose who wrote such beautiful love letters?´

´Oh him! Isn't that a musical? Anyway I doubt my colleague's so called _girlfriend_ is much of a writer. I pity him for living in a fantasy world.´

´You shouldn't,´ Magdalena said. ´He may be perfectly happy.´

´He may count himself a king of infinite space,´ Joseph contributed. Magdalena raised her glass at him.

´And let us hope his dreams are not bad,´ she added.

´Ow you two. Was that a quote from a film or so? Do you still visit that art-house in Pyrus often uncle Joseph?´

Addressing her husband Christina added: ´Uncle Joseph likes Kung Fu films Ernesto.´

Joseph engaged himself in a conversation with his brother's son-in-law. His niece Fabiola joined them and they spoke about films and basketball and various other subjects. When Fabiola readjusted her shawl and simultaneously a waiter stepped on a cracking floor-board and Joseph took a sip of wine, his memory was triggered.

His family pretended not to see that he turned pale and that his brow was covered in sweat. Saying that he needed some air he excused himself.

OoOoOoO

Outside the building Joseph leant against a wall but behind his back he felt the heat of a fire place. His eyes were wide open but he didn't see the English garden in front of the restaurant. He saw the sparkling longing eyes of his Queen. He saw her take a glass from his trembling hand. He didn't hear the church bells to announce what time it was. He heard Clarisse whisper his name.

Joseph shook his head to get rid of his day-dream. His triumphant memory refused to be put aside though.

Clarisse's fingers tickled his chest when she unbuttoned his shirt.

Joseph moaned. _It was real!_ _It had been real!_

Joseph covered his face in his hands. He wanted to cry out from joy and he wanted to weep.

´Joseph?´ Miguel softly said.

Joseph inhaled deeply and dropped his hands.

´I'm fine,´ he said with a forced smile.

´Sure?´

Joseph nodded. Miguel thoughtfully eyed him and offered him a cigar. Joseph declined it but he didn't go inside either. Miguel smoked for as long as his big brother needed to become his poised self again.

OoOoOoO

At the end of the evening, when Federico had thanked everyone for their company and presents, Joseph said that being with his family had helped him to heal and that he was ready to return to Pyrus.


	8. A royal welcome

Chapter 8 – A royal welcome

Charlotte had lunch in the canteen next to the kitchen. No sooner had she made her choice at the buffet and found a seat or the cook emerged from her domain. Mrs Danieli sat down opposite her and commented her choice of fruit.

´Those pears are delicious Miss Kutaway! You can't eat them without getting sticky fingers. I had some sent to Mr Romero for I'm not sure whether he will use his meals here yet.´

Charlotte smiled and buttered her toast.

´I don't know either Mrs Danieli.´

´You've talked to him didn't you? When you and he waited at the entrance for the Queen to arrive back home? How did he feel? How's his arm? Still in a sling I heard?'

Charlotte opened her mouth to reply affirmatively but the cook continued: 'I hope you told him that we're all glad he's back.´

In a whisper Mrs Danieli said: ´Teballi's a fine man but he hasn't got this thing Mr Romero has.´

Charlotte didn't reply audibly, but the cook read an affirmative in her eyes. She winked and asked after Mr Romero's _general health_.

'He told the Queen that there's no longer a hole in his memory,' Charlotte said.

'That's great! I should hate to lose my memory myself, even for a day! He must have been so relieved!'

'I'm sure he is,' Charlotte said as she thought about Joe's grumpy mood.

'Of course he is!'

'It wasn't new to him anymore, regaining his memory that is, and I guess the journey must have tired him. I asked him how often he'd had to change trains and it turned out to be _four_ times.'

'Oh. How horrible! The other day, well, about five months ago, me and my sisters went to Nice by train. We had to switch twice and it was absolutely tiresome. I can picture Mr Romero, who never has to travel by public transport, not to have been pleased.'

Charlotte agreed and added: 'I'm glad to have him back.'

'I understand that. And he's a friend of yours, isn't he? '

'And not just of me.'

Mrs Danieli, unfamiliar with the idea that Miss Kutaway might be manipulating a conversation, deftly remarked: 'I know. And despite all the gossip I'm sure Her Majesty will be glad to have him back too. He is after all the only friend she has at court. '

Charlotte felt a bit offended but she nodded all the same and in a perfectly neutral tone of voice said: 'Her Majesty was pleased to see him.'

'He won't be fired, will he?'

Annoyed because that particular rumour was still in circulation, Charlotte said: 'You shouldn't believe every-'

'No no no,' the cook interrupted, 'But with all the articles in the press and all… Does he know about that?´

´He said he had bought some political journals for the journey home so… I haven't mentioned any of it of course.´

The cook nodded. ´He'd be angry for the attacks on Her Majesty and he still needs to recover and being upset never helped anyone to heal.´ She patted the table to announce her next remark: ´I'd understand it if she wouldn't want him to guard her in public, but I _do_ hope he'll get back to work.'

'He wanted to do just that. He was already wearing his ear-plug,' Charlotte confided.

´I hadn't expected otherwise!´ the cook said in a proud tone of voice.

Charlotte wanted to make Mrs Danieli – and as a result the entire staff- know that Mr Romero may be the Queen's friend, but that first and foremost he was her employee.

´Her Majesty noticed the plug moments after she greeted him. She asked him whether his doctor had given her consent for him resuming duty. He admitted that he hadn't seen his doctor yet and the Queen told him that until he had, he was still on sick-leave.´

´How very wise,´ the cook said.

Charlotte had made sure to inform her boss that on her return from a public appearance her head of security would be waiting for her. She had felt that when the Queen would see him unexpectedly her innocent yet happy response would make people talk. Thanks to her, Charlotte, Joe had received a kind welcome but without the display of affection that would have triggered gossip.

'Yes,' Charlotte agreed, 'that was a wise decision.'

OoOoOoO

For the remainder of the day the Queen's loaded schedule prevented her from seeing her head of security. Charlotte told Joe so more than once.

Joe called his doctor. She happened to work the weekend shift and he bullied her into making an appointment for the next morning.

He ate three pears and stained his shirt.

He went for a walk on the estate after telling Charlotte that he could be contacted on his cell phone. He received no calls and the loveliness of the gardens failed to calm him down.

He made it for town, his bent head covered by a hood. Pyrus was loaded with tourists and some cursed him for passing in between their camera and the object they wanted to photograph. He was hungry but he only had enough money with him to buy a small slice of pizza. He ate it outside, surrounded by noisy backpackers.

Back in his apartment he skipped through a football magazine and tossed it against a wall. At a quarter past seven he went to the bathroom, stripped, put a plastic bag over his broken arm and had a shower. When rubbing himself down and later on when getting dressed he reminded himself that it was a good thing he hadn't broken his work-arm. He selected a handful of films from his DVD collection and practised to get a disk out of the box. He quickly mastered it and then he sat down and waited. It became eight o'clock. He stared at the phone. At nine in the evening he randomly picked one of the five films and made it for the Queen's suite.

OoOoOoO

When Joe entered the royal suite Maurice merrily barked. After a few moments Clarisse emerged from her terrace, still wearing the Valentino ensemble she had worn before. Joe privately called it her power-suit.

´I hoped to see you earlier,´ she said with a smile as she walked toward him. She didn't sound accusing. Joe felt her appeal but he didn't want to succumb.

´_I_ hoped to find a note in my room inviting me to drop by,´ he said. Just when Clarisse had neared him he squatted to pet the Poodle: ´Do you have a new collar now do you?´

From the corner of his eye he saw Clarisse walk to a small liquor cabinet.

´You normally call for tea at this time. Don't you want the butler to see I'm here?´

´Saturday _is_ our film evening. Which film did you bring?´

´It's right over there,´ Joe replied, gesturing to a side table. ´You _did_ hear that my memory returned?´

´Of course I did.´

Joe couldn't decide whether she sounded surprised or whether she was on her guard.

´Yes. You said that it was wonderful.'

Clarisse looked at Joseph questioningly.

'Just like you would tell a child that the drawing she made for you is wonderful. If I had merely been your head of security you would have greeted me in the same shall we say professional way.'

Joe was proud that despite his feelings he managed to sound calm. Clarisse's face was unreadable. She continued to pour them drinks.

´You complain that I'm here too late but you yourself couldn't even spare ten minutes to see me in private? I'm _back_ Clarisse. Last evening I remembered. I was with my family but I hurried home. _Home_ Clarisse, for where _you_ are, I'm home.´

Clarisse took their drinks and walked to the TV area.

´Ten minutes,´ Joe said to her back, ´Ten minutes to celebrate that we're a couple. Ten minutes to hold each other.´

Hearing the edge to his voice he breathed in deeply.

The couch in front of the TV had a tip-up arm-rest slash table in the middle and Clarisse sat down on one side of it. Joe picked up his glass from the couch's little table.

´Ten minutes to assure …´

Rather than finishing his line Joe drained his scotch. ´Will you be ruled by the aftermath of a gossip?´

Clarisse opened her mouth to reply but Joe was afraid of what she might say and quickly continued: ´I know the papers gave you a hard time. Mabrey and his ilk probably enjoyed themselves.´

´They _did_.´

Feeling he had acted a bit harshly he sat down on the edge of the couch. His lover took a sip of her wine.

´That bad huh?´ Joe said. His sense of guilt regarding the gossip made him say: ´But I'm sure you've mastered them quite well.´

The Poodle walked toward the closed French window leading to the terrace and barked.

´No Maurice. We will _not_ go for a walk,´ Clarisse said.

The well trained dog lay down.

´Mind if I poured myself another one?´ Joe asked. Not waiting for a reply he walked to the liquor cabinet. Opening its built-in refrigerator to get some ice he murmured: ´I'm still on sick-leave after all.´ He wasn't sure Clarisse could hear him but it felt good to say it.

´Motaz suggested that I bring Teballi with me to the Netherlands. I told him no.´

Joe guessed a thank you was in place but he couldn't bring himself to utter it. Clumsily handling the bottle he spilt some scotch. ´He doesn't believe _Tittle Tattle_ does he?´

´No. But he realises that the gossip caused a strong response that should be treated with care.´

Joe analysed the line.

´I'm familiar with the responses,´ he said as he returned to the couch. ´It isn't pleasant to know people think I'm an unsuitable partner for the woman I love.´

Looking pained Clarisse nodded. Most of Joe's anger melted away. Reaching out his arm in front of Clarisse he put down his glass and sat down next to his beloved. He caressed her cheek and she closed her eyes at his touch. Joseph admired the way the V-neck of her jacket accentuated her bosom. He trailed a finger down her neck. She shivered and he stared into blueness again.

´I love you,´ Joe said encouragingly. ´You love me. We will work this out. We were always discrete.´

´We had to be.´

´And we will _continue_ to be.´

Clarisse checked her watch. ´It's about time we start watching your film.´

Joe told himself this was an invitation to snuggle and he raised Clarisse's hand to his lips to kiss it. They were mates after all, no point in bending his head for her. He didn't like the fact that his hand was slightly trembling.

´I'll get the DVD box,´ he said.

To show Clarisse that there was nothing to worry about he whistled the theme from the film he had selected. He placed the disk in the DVD player and pressed the play button.

After five minutes Joe used the remote to stop the film. It took a moment before Clarisse responded which confirmed Joe's idea that her mind had been elsewhere.

´Did the machine break down?´ she asked.

Joe showed her the remote he held in his hand.

´Don't you like the film?´

´I liked the way you _used_ to sit next to me. _Relaxed._ We're in your suite Clarisse! No cameras, no chance of anyone surprising us. Yet you sit there as if you're granting an _audience_. _Please_: don't be ruled by gossip!´

´It had an impact Joseph,´ Clarisse softly said. She sighed and turned her upper body toward him. ´We need to talk.´

Joe braced himself. ´Do you agree with your people?´

´On what?´

Joe walked to the DVD-player. Forcefully pressing the eject button he said: ´Me being just a servant. A filthy nobody.´

Clarisse made a throatily sound.

´An upstart without a drop of blue blood,´ she said, ´A commoner who defiles me.´


	9. A golden future

Author's note: this chapter takes place immediately after ´A royal welcome´. How could it not?

Chapter 9 – A golden future

Joe felt sick. He placed his hand on his midriff.

Clarisse's heels click-clacked _de-files-me_. Her fingers touched his cheek to make him look at her. He didn't give in. He recalled the words of love they had exchanged in the past. No more.

Clarisse more or less dragged his face toward her. Her eyes were fuming.

´The people who say those hateful things don't _know_ you! And if _you_ for a _moment_ believe that _I_ now think that you are _beneath_ me, _you_ don't know _me_!´

Joe wrapped his good arm around her waist, rested his head against hers and inhaled her lilac scent. Home.

´I'm sorry,´ he whispered.

´Sh,´ she said.

Joe relished their re-found closeness until it registered on him that it might not be just his broken arm that prevented Clarisse from leaning against him. He tensed and Clarisse took a small step back.

´We're not done talking are we?´ Joe asked. He read the answer in Clarisse's eyes. Needing to have some sort of control he gestured toward the couch. Clarisse followed his suggestion and she seated herself. Joseph remained standing.

After a moment when the only sounds were the ticking of a clock and Maurice's breathing Clarisse said: ´The gossip has an impact _beyond_ people thinking they have a say about my private life.´

Since she seemed to wait for him to reply, Joe nodded.

´The vast majority of my people feel that I should not have a partner. ´

´Do you want to appease them?´ Joe gruffly said.

´No I don't. But there's a but.´

Joe made a gesture with his head to tell her to continue.

´No one can know about us.´

Joe sighed. ´As I told you, we will continue to be discrete. There's nothing to worry about. And when your son becomes a King, well, there's no-´

Clarisse interrupted him: ´Queen-Regent or not, people want me to remain a _widow_.´

´Once Philippe is King you will be allowed to be free.´

´Parliament was quite clear about it. As things stand at this moment - ´

´We'll see about that.´

´And what if I'm right?´

Joe didn't reply. He turned around to stare at the blue TV screen which asked _Bitte legen Sie eine abspielbare Disk ein_.

´We never discussed our future Joseph. I neglected to do so. I was selfish. I didn't want to be merely content, I wanted to be _happy_ and for that…´

Tick- tack said the clock. Tick-tack.

´I need _you_.´

Joe, moved by her admission, faced her again.

´We lived in the moment Joseph. And with what is going on, our future may look bleak.´

´No it won't mi amor. In a few year's time we'll be together for all the world to see.´

´The way things stand now me having a partner will _harm the monarchy_.´

Tick-tack. Tick-tack. Tick-tack.

´And we wouldn't want _that_ now would we?´

´Joseph…´

´Be frank Clarisse. What are you saying?´

´We might never be a _couple_.´

Tick-tack. Tick-tack. Tick-tack.

´To me, we _are_ a couple. You _made_ us a couple. But now I understand that the country has a say in it.´

´Not if we are careful. And we _have_ been careful. Nothing needs to change.´

´If nothing had changed, we wouldn't have this conversation! You would be leaning against me and comment the acting. And why not, being quite the actress yourself!´

Clarisse picked up her glass of wine and put it down again.

´You know the employer's lines by heart as well as the lover's lines.´

´You act along Joseph.´

´What if I had not remembered? Would you have told me?´

Clarisse was silent for a long time and Joe thought that she wouldn't reply his question but looking him straight in his face she said: 'I'm not sure.'

Joe felt his jaw tighten.

´It may be dangerous to present facts to people who don't recall them,´ Clarisse said. Her voice sounded higher than usual.

Joe snorted.

´You realise this is about turn a different corner and we never would have met, don't you Joseph?´

´No need to discuss it for it is a road untraveled? I _do_ think we need to explore it.´

´Feel free,´ Clarisse dared him.

´You would not have reminded me of us. Ever.´

´_After_ that article it _was_ convenient that you didn't remember.´

Clarisse looked at him as if to invite him to admit that her reasoning was logical.

´Dios mio!´

OoOoOoO

Joe woke from a nap and discovered he was lying on his couch. Several magazines, papers and envelops that been piled up before he went to see Clarisse were spread all over the floor. While he wiped some saliva from the corner of his mouth his eye fell on a folded piece of paper that had been shoved underneath the door. In the few steps it took him to reach it he made up that it contained an apology and a declaration of love from Clarisse. Feeling better instantly he unfolded it.

It was a note from Charlotte offering to drive him to the hospital for his Sunday morning appointment. Joe turned the paper around to see if Charlotte had used the back side of a scribble Clarisse had sent him.

´Damn!´

Joe wanted to tear the note apart but he had to settle for making a ball of it and throwing it away.

´Convenient!´

Was it only fifteen hours since he'd woken up in Spain? The first part of his journey to Genovia had been filled with recollections of Clarisse seducing him at El Chalet. Then he had realised how she must have felt knowing he didn't _know_ about them and he had daydreamed about showering her in kisses to make up for their lost time and her loneliness.

In the train with destination Pyrus he had read an article about the Queen's choice for a husband and his mood had deteriorated after that. Joe got angry all over when thinking of the welcome he had received but when he spotted a paper ball lying on a window-sill he forced himself to calm down. _Charlotte_ had been happy to see him. Joe called his colleague and found out that she wanted to visit a gallery in Antiem to see a painting she'd spotted before. Pleased to learn that she wasn't merely acting as a chauffeur he accepted her kind offer.

OoOoOoO

When he and Charlotte were together the topic that always got mentioned sooner or later was their boss. All the way to Antiem Joe chatted about his holiday and his family. Charlotte felt privileged.

´Why don't we have lunch together before we return,´ she suggested when Joe got out of the car.

Lunch meant more chit-chat and Joe didn't know what to talk about anymore. The prospect of not yet returning home was to his liking though and he reasoned that he could always tell Charlotte about his visit to the doctor.

´Let's do that.´

´The admiral's cocked hat?´

´At The Market right?´

Charlotte nodded.

´Fine,´ Joe said.

´Great! See you in an hour then? And good luck Joe. I hope your doctor will let you go back to work.´

Joe gave his colleague a smile and closed the passenger door.

OoOoOoO

One of the first things Joe did after entering doctor Valera's consulting-room was to apologize for his behaviour at the phone. His charm had an immediate effect on the physician, who had some patients who were more rude than Her Majesty's very own bodyguard. With a smile she started her checklist.

Joe answered her questions truthfully and as a result the doctor told him that it was best if he didn't go back to work just yet.

´Spend time outside. Walk, rest. See if your concentration improves. Come back this Friday and we'll see how you're doing. I'll check your arm then also. Is that OK with you?´

Joe had mixed feelings about the doctor's verdict but he nodded his consent.

OoOoOoO

When Joe entered the lunchroom Charlotte was reading an American glossy and she reached out for the espresso in front of her. From the way her fingers retreated Joe concluded that she hadn't been waiting for a long time.

´And?´ was the first thing Charlotte asked him when he seated himself opposite her. She stuffed the magazine in her bag.

Joe told Charlotte what the doctor had said.

´It's for the best Joe!´

A waiter showed up to take their orders. Charlotte asked for club sandwich "Deep Sea" and Joe ordered the same. He had the feeling the waiter was staring at him.

´Is something wrong?´ Joe asked him.

´No sir!´

´Some people in town eyed me too,´ Joe told Charlotte after the waiter had hurried away, ´One doesn't see a filthy commoner every day right?´

´Oh Joe,´ Charlotte said with a sigh. ´I hoped you hadn't read all that stuff. You know that no one who knows you thinks that way about you do you?´

´Meaning _most_ people _do_ feel I'm a piece of shit.´

´Don't say that!´

Joe toyed with the unlit candle on their table. Charlotte tried another approach: ´I'm surprised you care for their opinion,´ she playfully said.

Her colleague sat back. ´I _don't_,´ he said. It's just so dumb. The internet is like a ventriloquist. Democratic power player: right!´

Charlotte, running out of options as to how to deal with this Joe, inhaled the scent of her espresso.

´I didn't know you drank coffee.´

´At work I usually drink tea. I _like_ tea, I _do_.´

Joe raised his eyebrows.

Charlotte bent toward him. ´I never drank much tea before I started to work for _her_. I guess - ´

´Say,´ Joe interrupted, ´I forgot to ask: did you still like the painting you went to see?´

´Would you believe that I walked straight passed it?´

´Other art caught your eye?´

´Yes it did. And it was less expensive too.´

Charlotte brought her cup to her lips and whispered over its rim: ´It was six!´

´Hundred?´

Charlotte made a face.

´Thousand?!´

´Yes. But I liked it and it seemed like a good investment.´

She took a sip of her espresso and put the cup down.

´I feel silly now. What do _I_ know about art?´

Joe sensed where the subject was leading to and quickly asked Charlotte whether her sister had given birth already.

´No, she is due in three weeks.´

´You must be so excited.´

Charlotte smiled radiantly. ´I'm going to spoil that child, I know I will.´

With clever questions about Charlotte's future niece or nephew Joe covered the time until their food arrived. When they were done eating they had a cappuccino.

´When you wouldn't be what you are, what would you have become Joe?´

It took Joe a moment to understand Charlotte was talking about jobs, not personalities.

´I don't know. A soldier. An instructor at the military academy. A policeman.´

´A private eye!´ Charlotte contributed.

Joseph grinned. ´Perhaps a teacher,´ he mused.

´Really?´

´Some years ago there was a job fair at my former high school. I liked to interact with the children.´

Charlotte tilted her head. ´Yes. I can picture you entering a noisy classroom with teenagers standing on tables and throwing stuff at each other.´ Charlotte laughed. ´One of them would spot you and in the blink of an eye they would shut up, clean the mess and seat themselves.´

Joseph grinned and thanked Charlotte for her confidence. ´What about you? What would you do if you had to do something else?´

Charlotte replied instantly. ´Don't laugh, but I might start a travel agency.´

´Because you like to arrange things and make sure people lack nothing.´

´Yes!´

Joe opened his mouth to say more on the subject, but Charlotte didn't let him. ´This is nice, isn't it Joe? We should do this more often.´

OoOoOoO

On the way back to Pyrus Charlotte suddenly broke the pleasant silence by saying: ´My parents are looking forward to having a grandchild.´

´I can imagine that.´

´Me too.´

A traffic sign announced a petrol station in five kilometres. Charlotte checked her dashboard.

´It makes me… When you're with your family Joe, do you regret not having children?´

Charlotte cast a sideway glance. ´If you don't wanna answer that's fine.´

Joe didn't mind replying. ´It grew on me.´

Charlotte overtook a truck. When she was back on the right lane Joe said: ´You're _young_ Charlotte.´

´But approaching the years of danger. I don't even have a boy-friend.´

´You can choose to be a single mother.´

´I'm not desperate. And it isn't the perfect picture I have in mind, so….´

Joe wasn't fooled by Charlotte's casual shrug. ´You'll find someone. You're pretty, kind, smart.´

Charlotte blushed.

´Who knows: you might find yourself a Dutchman wearing wooden shoes.´

Charlotte laughed. ´I doubt there are many Dutch who wear those things and if they do, it's to please tourists. We'll see in a few weeks' time. I hope you'll be able to be part of the state visit.´

´So do I,´ Joe automatically said. He yawned and closed his eyes which had the expected result: Charlotte dropped the subject and silently drove him to the castle.

OoOoOoO

Prince-consort Ernst of the Netherlands set the door to his wife's office ajar and learned that she was no longer on the phone.

´Lieveling!´ the Queen's parrot cried out as the prince walked by, ´Lieveling!´

´Clarisse had a lot to tell you.´

´Joseph's back. He remembers about them.´

´I'm glad for that!´

The Queen put her pen down. ´They had a fight.´

´About what?´

´He took offence of the mud that was thrown at him. And he is angry with C because she admitted that she wasn't sure whether she would ever have _reminded_ him that they were lovers.´

´I see.´

The prince walked to a CD-player. ´I think most mud was thrown at Clarisse.´

´Absolutely. But she figured Joseph had a right to be upset. She didn't even tell him about her argument with Philippe.´

´About Philippe claiming that Joseph and Helen are in different leagues?´

The Queen nodded. Jack Jones started to sing and the prince pretended to sway someone around. He invitingly raised his eyebrows at his wife.

´Philippe seems so open-minded, but at times he's wearing blinkers,´ the Queen said, smiling because of her husband's happy expression. She glanced at the piles of documents on her desk and rose to step into Ernst's arms.


	10. How now?

Chapter 10 – How now?

´He looked fine. And he acted just like he always did though he was rather quiet. Did you notice he didn't wear socks? Well, I still understand why he told Francois he didn't need him anymore. He is a man who likes his independency. And before you know it he will wear shirts again, not T-shirts. And shoes with laces.

´He's still wearing black,´ kitchen maid Anna mentioned.

´Good lord girl, something would be seriously wrong when Mr Romero stops wearing black! Anyway, I'm glad he's back and as far as I know he hasn't seen Her Majesty since Saturday.´

´He _is_ on sick leave Mrs Danieli!´ Anna said.

´Yes, you're right dear,´ the cook said and she glanced at the housekeeper's assistant, who _did_ understand her point.

OoOoOoO

Joe was pleased with himself for having had lunch in the canteen. No one had eyed him funnily or mentioned the subject he dreaded. Why had he been nervous about seeing his colleagues? His concussion was to blame, no doubt about it.

Apart from going to the canteen Joe had made another resolution, but there were many excuses not to keep it: reading the paper, checking e-mail and making a long walk at the estate needed his full concentration and didn't combine with thinking about what Clarisse had said.

He checked what time it was and then turned on the TV. He'd found out that on week-days episodes of _the A-team_ were shown. He made himself comfortable on the couch. Hannibal and his men were replaced by the Ewing family. Joe kept watching. After _Dallas_ another old series made its appearance.

´Alf!´

His voice sounded gruff. He cleared his throat. ´That has been a while.´

He watched half the episode about the furry alien and then he turned off the TV for he started to feel like a pathetic loser. What was he supposed to do? His days were normally filled with work, sports. Clarisse.

He turned on the TV again and he was pleased when he found an awarded documentary to watch.

OoOoOoO

Queen Clarisse felt like closing her eyes for just a moment so she could picture the hand lying on the small of her back to be Joseph's. Lord Jalva, who waltzed her around, would notice that however and so would the many people watching her.

´Do you recall the performance of _Don Carlo_ we saw in the early 1980's Lord Jalva?´

The nobleman's eyes darted to the Queen's face.

´I'm not sure Your Majesty.´

The Queen gave him some names to remember the performance by but her partner's expression left no doubt that nothing about it had lingered and he honestly told her so, adding that he had enjoyed the _Don Carlo_ they had just witnessed. Over the Queen's shoulder Lord Jalva saw Viscount Mabrey raising his eyebrows at him and making a gesture as if he was to step in. Jalva led the Queen to another part of the dance floor. He wasn't willing to separate from his feminine, sweet smelling liege and he day-dreamed about them being together in a more private setting. With a smile he answered a question about his youngest son who was on a journey around the world, doing volunteer's work.

´For the past month Javier's been teaching English at an elementary school in Kenia.´

´How wonderful. He'll learn so much!´

Bertrand Jalva voiced his agreement and added: ´Javier will be back in five weeks. Which reminds me: I heard that your head of security has returned for duty?´

´He did return,´ the Queen replied, ´but according to his doctor he can't work yet.´

In a greasy tone Jalva said: ´I do hope the man will soon recover. From what I've heard he's a good solid employee. I trust that his substitute is doing a fine job?´

´For as far as it is within his power the acting head of security protects me from harm.´

Lord Jalva nervously copied the Queen's smile. He was sure that the Viscount would have come up with a witty reply but unlike Mabrey _he_ was a refined gentleman, wasn't he?

OoOoOoO

Joe's fingers traced the contours of his Queen. His eyes were also glued to her picture in the morning paper. Months ago she'd told him that she had ordered a nearly backless dress ´for your eyes only Joseph´. Had she worn it to remind him? He hadn't been waiting down the stairs when she'd ascended. Hadn't kissed her hand. Hadn't let his eyes communicate that she looked beautiful. He pushed aside the guilt he felt by reasoning that their lack of contact wasn't caused by him alone.

´And I haven't deliberately forgotten about the opera,´ Joe heard himself say.

OoOoOoO

Charlotte removed her bag from the chair next to hers so Joe could sit down for lunch. Colonel Frerer inquired after his health. Joe briefly informed her about it and added: ´But please colonel. I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation.´

´We were just talking about _Star Trek_ Joe,´ Charlotte said. ´I told the colonel about an episode I once saw. I found it cruel.´

´It was the episode in which Deanna Troi had to take an exam on the Holodeck,´ the colonel told Mr Romero. Joe shrugged to indicate that he didn't know it.

´She was presented with a script, ´ the officer explained. ´The Enterprise was in danger and if she didn't take the right action, everyone on it would die. It was clear what she had to do, but she kept searching for alternatives. There were none and she failed the test. However, after receiving the obligatory wise lesson she was allowed to try it again and she ordered her friend and colleague Geordi La Forge to save the day, knowing it would cost him his life.´

´See?´ Charlotte said. ´Cruel. Say Joe, do you read a lot these days?´

´I take the opportunity to see some DVD boxes I bought years ago.´

Charlotte wanted to know what he was watching and Joe told her. Unlike Charlotte the colonel had seen _Elizabeth R_ too. Joe asked her for her opinion.

´I remember that I had to get used to see Robert Hardy as a lover.´

Joe grinned.

´And I did not like it that Elizabeth was made to wear a strait-jacket while her father got away with having mistresses and beheading two of his wives.´

´Different times colonel,´ Charlotte said with a shrug. She reminded Joe that he would show her the pictures he'd made during his holiday.

OoOoOoO

´Valais!´

Guard Valais turned his back to a candy machine. Seeing his colleague Capras walk toward him he calmly took the wrap from a Mars he'd just bought.

´You're on duty man!´ Capras angrily said.

´The boss heard my stomach rumble and he told me to get a bite.´

´Teba- Oh! The boss? Is he back on duty?´

´That's what I asked. He told me to pay attention to the screens.´

´Sounds like the old Romero.´

´Yeah. A while later on he said that sick-leave bored him.´

´No surprise there.´

OoOoOoO

The irony of watching not one but fifteen screens and feeling good about it amused Joe. All screens were connected to two or more cameras and screen number six alternately showed the corridor leading to the Japanese Room and said room itself where Her Majesty was presiding a meeting. The cameras showed black and white images only, but from the pattern of the Queen's shawl Joe concluded it was grey with turquoise which would reveal a rare shade of blue in her eyes.

OoOoOoO

PEEP

´That's nice.´

PEEP

´This must be Fabiola.´

´No, that's Magdalena.´

PEEP

´Lovely garden.´

´It's Sofia's pride and -´

PEEP

PEEP

´What's wrong Charlotte?´

Charlotte put down Joe's camera.

´Oh, I just hoped that she would invite me for her meeting about the museum shop. I told her I found the subject interesting. I may not be an expert but I _am_ a consumer. That girl from the merchandising team only cares for money.´

Charlotte continued talking and Joe nodded and hummed at appropriate moments. When Charlotte checked her watch and said that she needed to leave because she had to finish the book for her book club, Joe nodded understandingly. He'd made a decision.

´And I'm off to Her Majesty's office,´ he said. ´She won't have any appointments now…´

Joe waited for Charlotte's confirmation before continuing: ´so I won't disturb her too much when I inform her that I worked in the monitoring room in the afternoon.´

´You did?! That's great!´

´I'm surprised you didn't know already.´

Charlotte laughed contagiously: ´I haven't been in the kitchen since lunch time!´

OoOoOoO

The bright smile on Clarisse's face when she saw him reminded Joe of the way she'd looked at him after he'd returned home from the hospital. It reminded him of many smiles she had bestowed on him. Sweet smiles, sated smiles.

Clarisse put aside the document she was reading, took off her glasses and gestured toward a chair.

´I'm sorry I didn't come to see you earlier,´ Joe started after he'd sat down opposite her desk. ´I realise that you can't just come and see me.´

´Thank you Joseph. I could have made up a reason to summon you, but I felt that you wouldn't appreciate that.´

Joe cleared his throat.

´I walked Maurice twice a day so we might meet in the gardens but I realised that there was no need for you to go for a walk,´ Clarisse said for she wanted Joseph to know that as far as it was in her power she had tried to see him.

Joe nodded but remained silent.

´I thought about Saturday a lot,´ Clarisse continued.

´So did I. ´

Joseph looked at Clarisse. ´I heard Maurice bark near the greenhouse yesterday. I left. I wasn't ready to see you.´

Clarisse quickly recovered. ´But you are here now.´

´Yes.´

Thinking that ready to see apparently didn't mean ready to talk, Clarisse helpfully, if not a little nervously, said: ´We have an unfinished conversation to deal with.´

´You indicated that a discussion about whether or not you would have told me was hypothetical,´ Joe said. ´I guess it is. I'm glad you were spared a decision.´

´So am I.´

´You would have sacrificed your own happiness for you put Genovia first. It's so very you. The Queen and the woman both. But- ´

Joe stopped talking when he saw Clarisse flinch at his last word. She bravely urged him to continue: ´But?´

´What will happen next? What will happen to us?´

´We can still be together Joseph.´

´How close do you want me Corazon?´

Tick-tack. Tick-tack.

Clarisse folded one hand over the other.

´Something changed. It shifted,´ Joseph said. ´You say that we can be together _and_ that our future looks bleak. It seemed a contradiction to me, but I now think that you are right.´

Conscious of the fact that in the monitoring room one of his men was watching his every move within a six second frame, Joe resisted the urge to lean toward the desk.

´The bleakness being that if you feel it is required of you, you will dump me.´

Clarisse's knuckles turned white.

´And even if there's no need for that; you will prefer the certain to the uncertain and keep me hidden.´

Tick-tack. Tick-tack. Tick-tack.

´I don't want that,´ Clarisse said in a small voice that made Joseph's heart ache.

´Nor do I. But that's how things will work out.´

Tick-tack. Tick-tack.

Joseph rose.

´I came to tell you that I spent some hours in the monitoring room today. I needed to _do_ something.´

For the sake of the man in the monitoring room Joseph inclined his head for his Queen. He walked to the door but he stopped when Clarisse called his name.

´What will happen next?´ she asked.

´I will let you know.´

…

…

Author's note: So, what do you think of the story so far? (I hope this isn't going to be the second chapter in a row without any reviews.)


	11. Slowly going nowhere

Chapter 11 – Slowly going nowhere

At dinner Sebastian Motaz told his wife about a staff member of his who'd been hospitalized while on a holiday in Jordan. Mrs Motaz expressed her sympathies, but when her husband contemplated _yet again_ about how fragile one's health is, she merely hummed and asked him: ´Will Mr Romero join Her Majesty on her state visit or not?´

Sebastian made a throatily sound which made Sheila conclude that the meeting between Queen and Prime Minister had not been an easy one and that the much discussed head of security _would_ travel to the Netherlands.

´I told her that several MPs had asked me to bring up the topic and that I could see why they were worried: the gossip magazines and some papers as well don't let their readers forget about the marriage -´

´I _do_ hope you phrased that differently.´

Motaz nodded and said: ´She told me that _several_ MPs are stakeholders of the company that publishes those magazines. I reminded her that since Mr Romero is working part time, it might seem strange to bring him. _She_ said that as long as his arm is still healing he won't act as her bodyguard but that he can very well handle his job as head of security.´

Sheila gestured her husband to pass her the salad.

´Here you are dear. Jean then said that perhaps we should let everything depend on his arm: bring him when his arm is no longer in splints and let him stay in Genovia when it still is. I rather liked the suggestion. She didn't.´

´What did she say?´

´She said that the head of security always accompanies her when she goes abroad. She added that if he joins her the gossips will say that she can't bear to be separated from him and that in case he stays in Pyrus they will say that her mind always drifts off to him. It's a win-win scenario for them, she said.

´And she's right. It's such a shame that she has to stand all this. They are just friends.´

The Prime Minister's wife was his confidante, but Sebastian had kept Mr Romero's outburst in the Queen's office to himself. Sheila was discrete, but even she might accidentally reveal what should be kept a secret. _Are we married? Is it a gossip or are you dumping me? _Seeing the toughest man he knew cry like a child had shocked Sebastian and as a result Miss Kutaway's explanation had seemed logical at first.

Sebastian took a moment to clear his mouth and said: ´I _do_ hope they are still friends.´

´What do you mean?´

´Charlotte Kutaway told me that on the previous two Saturdays she went to a film festival with Mr Romero.´

´So?´

´Saturday used to be the DVD evening for Her Majesty and Mr Romero.´

To Sheila this information was new and she couldn't help but recall the snuggling she and her high school boyfriend had enjoyed in a cinema. She sternly told herself that Queen Clarisse and snuggling didn't go together and that friends are just friends and quickly said:

´A festival only comes once a year.´

Sebastian shrugged. ´She seemed a bit tense.´

´Annoyed by your and Jean's suggestions perhaps?´

Sebastian chewed his potatoes.

´Nervous for the state visit?´ Sheila suggested.

´To her friend's country? _Jean_ is nervous all right. It's his first visit as a Minister.´

Sheila barely heard what her husband said.

´Maybe the Queen _asked_ Mr Romero to bring her aid to the festival: that way people might think that instead of being married to her he's dating Miss Kutaway!´

´If that was her plan, it wasn't picked up, was it? No paper or magazine mentioned it.´

´For a bodyguard and a secretary won't feed gossip.´ Sheila sighed. ´Why do _you_ think she is tense?´

´It's been hard on her. Tittle Tattle is quiet now, but that Penworthy woman can't get enough of the whole thing. The Luna affair wasn't half as bad compared to this.´

´Speaking of which: has Jean suggested Queen Beatrix to hide her head of the military house?´

´He is not suicidal dear.´

Sheila nearly spit her wine. Sebastian merely smiled while she laughed. He wasn't sure about the nature of the relationship between Her Majesty and her head of security but even if they _were_ just friends, he would welcome it when a battalion of photographers would catch the Dutch general glancing at Queen Clarisse with the same appreciation he had shown her months ago.

OoOoOoO

When it came to places to make love to Joseph the Queen had never considered the castle. It was therefore illogical to look at her bed and think that he shunned it.

´But he does,´ she whispered. ´In a way he does.´

She understood that Joseph needed time to think but she was sorry that it was easier for him to set his thoughts straight when she wasn't near. A shiver ran down her spine when she pictured his options. If there was no _us_ in the future, would he even stay?

She caressed the wooden bed frame and walked to the bathroom where she tried to brush her teeth with her left hand. It wasn't the first time she did it but it wasn't getting easier. Taking over the toothbrush with her right hand, her other hand wiped away a tear.

OoOoOoO

Teballi, walking next to his boss, wondered aloud whether something was wrong. Why after all would the Queen have rescheduled their meeting? _Joe_ knew all too well why she had done it. A week ago Teballi had dutifully reported to Her Majesty that after working for the entire morning Mr Romero was too tired to attend the security meeting regarding the upcoming state visit. Today he would have done the same, if only the Queen had not sent word at nine in the morning that she expected to see them in ten minutes.

For the past weeks Joe had seen the Queen as a combination of pixels on a monitor or in a picture and it was a bit of a shock to see her live, in full colour. She welcomed them charmingly, thanked them for their timely arrival and gestured Teballi to sit on the left chair opposite her desk. Joe took the other chair. Her Majesty inquired after his health. He replied.

The first point on the agenda was handled by the Queen and Teballi. Joe's mind was elsewhere: he had a good view on the pictures to Clarisse's right. One of them showed her late husband and her sons and another showed her and several crowned heads but Joe's eye was caught by a large picture of Queen Clarisse and Queen Beatrix.

´Is something the matter Joseph?´ the Queen's voice interrupted his thoughts. She glanced over her right shoulder. ´Oh,´ she said as if she'd made a discovery, ´Perhaps you haven't seen it before?´

´No, I haven't ma'am.´

´But you remember it, don't you?´

Teballi would think that the Queen was checking whether his boss's memory really was up and running, but Joe knew better.

´It shows you and the Queen of the Netherlands re-opening El Chalet,´ he said.

The Queen nodded. ´We had a lovely time there.´

Teballi would assume that _we_ meant the Queen and her royal friend. Joe knew it meant Clarisse and Joseph. As for _lovely_… Making love to Clarisse _had_ been lovely. If lovely _also_ meant mind-blowing and heavenly and passionate and everlas-.

Joe broke off his trail of thought. It took a few moments before he caught up with the topic at hand.

OoOoOoO

The Queen visiting a community centre in a small town normally didn't make it to the national newspapers, even if said centre celebrated its 50th anniversary. The chief editors of both _Genovian Daily_ and _New Antiem Times_ had been told by a reliable source that Mr Romero would re-appear on the occasion and as a result the Queen's arrival wasn't covered by local media only. Inside the community centre photographers were not allowed but members of the writing press _were_ present. Mr Alba and Mr Mercier, though working for rival papers, had found each other and like two men of the world they commented the fact that the invitees were nervous. When the royal limousines arrived people used their elbows to secure a good spot near a window.

´She's wearing Dietrich pants and a bolero. Very elegant,´ a woman told her smaller friend. ´So many photographers: it must be painful to her eyes. Oh look, isn't that Joe Romero?! Poor man, can't be nice for him, can it?´

´Not for _her_ either Brigitte,´ Brigitte's friend said.

´No. But she is used to that kind of crap. Oh, there she comes!´

The Queen entered the building and Alba and Mercier observed that she had a way to make people feel comfortable. They noticed that Mr Romero quietly stood aside, occasionally communicating with his men. Several people looked at him and then started chatting among themselves, but his expression remained unreadable. He looked at the Queen from time to time, but only when a new group of people was introduced to her.

A woman wearing a T-shirt with the text _L'union fait la force golden jubilee_ came over to see Brigitte and her friend.

´And? And?´ Brigitte asked her.

Beaming with joy the woman said: ´It was fantastic. She is _so_ kind! And she even knew that my grandfather was one of the initiators of the centre!´

She continued talking about Her Majesty until she noticed an old lady addressing a balding man dressed in black. ´That's him, isn't it?´

´Yes,´ Brigitte said without the excitement that had coloured her voice when she'd first spotted the bodyguard. ´And he's on duty; that old tart should leave him alone. Oh, look: he's sending her away already. Nicely done.´

The three invitees and the two reporters all glanced from Romero to their Queen.

´No, they're definitely not married,´ Brigitte concluded. ´I really hope the media will leave her alone now. It lasted long enough as it is.´

Brigitte's friends couldn't agree more.

Mr Alba and Mr Mercier, who normally covered sessions of Parliament, keenly felt that their assignment to spy on the Queen and Romero was beneath them.

´The voice of the country spoke,´ Mr Mercier whispered to his colleague.

OoOoOoO

The clock stroke five times and Maurice walked to the terrace doors.

´I know,´ his Mistress said, ´It is time for our walk.´

So far she had not run into Joseph in the gardens. She had feared that he kept away from her as if to say "We're done" and she feared to walk into him and be told that he would leave her. She had not cancelled the walks though.

After returning from the community centre and in the presence of her aide-de-camp and her lady-in-waiting she had told Joseph that if he –in the course of the afternoon- found that he was tired he should not hesitate to tell her so. It was a hidden invitation to come to her office but he hadn't shown up.

Folding the paper she'd been reading she rose to take Maurice out. She was content with the way the media had covered Joseph's reappearance. It was mentioned that he was present, but only _Genovian Daily_ showed a picture of him and _New Antiem Times_ even had a background story about the importance of community centres.

The Queen took her usual route. It led from the rose garden into the English garden into the forest and back to the castle via the kitchen-garden. Clarisse could already see the reflection of sunlight on the green house at the edge of the forest when Maurice barked in a special way. Eighteen steps took her into a clearing where she saw the man her dog had sensed already. He had his back to her and used a trunk to step up and down and up and down.

Clarisse was sure that even if Maurice _hadn't_ announced her arrival, Joseph would have sensed her presence. He always did. It was one of the things about him that made her feel special.

´Hello Joseph.´

He stopped exercising and turned around.

´Hello.´

Maurice walked toward Joe. Clarisse followed the Poodle. Joe squatted in front of the dog and hugged it. He used his left arm.

´It's natural to want to introduce the woman you love to your family,´ Joe whispered, ´As your partner.´

When Clarisse remained silent Joe addressed her Poodle: ´Aren't you a good dog?´

He rose. The sunlight fell through the trees in a fairy-tale way, illuminating Clarisse's hair. She looked vulnerable but that dress she wore… She'd worn it at El Chalet once when they'd made love against -

Joe stepped back. He spotted a branch and picked it up.

BARK

Joe threw the wood away, using his left arm. The dog returned with the branch.

BARK

Joe threw. He and Clarisse followed the dog. Throw and walk. Throw and walk.

In the kitchen-garden a gardener heard Mr Romero say: ´No Maurice, no more throwing. Her Majesty won't have you ruin the plants.´

OoOoOoO

Another gardener later on told the cook that the Queen had asked Mr Romero how his arm was doing and that he had replied that it felt fragile and that the Queen had said that things of value are always fragile.

´Things of value are fragile,´ the cook softly repeated. ´And an arm _is_ a thing of value. I never realised it but it's true.´

´Mr Romero thought so too. He said he was happy that his arm could be mended.´

´Indeed! What did she say?´

´That many things can be mended, if only you don't mind an imperfection here and there.´

´Like that vase in her office! Of course _you've_ never seen it, but it's from Iceland. The president of that country gave it to her and a butler accidentally broke it, but she wasn't angry or anything, she said that a little glue would do miracles. Did you hear what Mr Romero replied?´

´When the vase was broken?´

´No! In the garden!´

´Oh right. Well… don't think he said anything.´

´He probably nodded. For he too is wise. Well, I'm glad that the papers are no longer obsessed by them. There's a nice article in _Pyran Courier_ about the friendship between the Queen and Queen Beatrix. I think the Queen will enjoy seeing her.´

OoOoOoO

Several courtiers waited for the Queen to arrive for the final meeting before the state visit.

´It really is kind of Her Majesty to allow you to stay in Genovia to look after your sister and niece,´ Viscountess Margoli told Miss Kutaway. ´When _I_ was born _my_ father served overseas as well, but naturally _my_ mother had a nanny and maids to help her.´

´I'm sure you're going to do _just_ fine acting as the Queen's secretary,´ Charlotte soothingly told the lady-in-waiting. ´After all you only have to perform the basic tasks.´

´Have you brought pictures of your niece with you?´ the Viscountess replied. She had been told that the baby was rather ugly.

Charlotte proudly passed photos of her niece in her sister's arms, her niece in her arms, her niece in a cradle and her niece in a cradle with a stuffed animal. Caroline Margoli's mood improved for the baby was indeed unattractive. She handed the pictures to Count Rossano, the head of the military house.

´I meant to ask you Mr Romero,´ the Viscountess said, ´Normally your second-in-command remains in Genovia when Her Majesty goes abroad.´

After a moment's silence Joe replied: ´Your question being?´

Hearing the sound of high heels nearby the lady-in-waiting hasted to say: ´I wondered if his coming along means that you're planning to retire.´

´I'll just put these here shall I?´ the head of the military house said as he placed Charlotte's pictures in front of the empty chair to his right.

The Queen entered, seated herself next to the Count and motioned everyone to sit down.

´Oh, you've brought pictures of Juliette,´ she said to Charlotte.

Charlotte smiled brightly. ´That's my sister ma'am,´ she redundantly said as she gestured toward the top picture.

´She's obviously very happy,´ the Queen remarked.

Joe struggled with himself: was it appropriate to make his point here and now?

´I'm not retiring yet Viscountess,´ he said at the same time the Queen fondly commented Juliette's bright eyes. ´But I think that prince Philippe's coronation would be _the_ moment for me to leave.´

The Queen didn't comment the next picture. Looking at the third picture she said: ´Juliette has a fine head of hair.´

´So had I at that age Your Majesty,´ the bald Count revealed with an uncharacteristic sense of humour. ´It proves that one can't predict the future.´

...

...

Author's note: I'm curious about your views on this chapter. And yes: that's a hint to use the button below. ;)


	12. A friend at court

Author's note: this is the second last chapter of Field day. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Chapter 12 – A friend at court

Joe had been told by Charlotte that the Queen had spent a lot of time writing her speech for the banquet in Amsterdam.

Standing aside in the _Burgerzaal_ in the palace on Dam Square Joe heard it for the first time. It shamed him; not the speech itself for the Queen was a fine writer and since the _Your Majesty_ she addressed was her dearest and oldest friend her words were not merely well chosen but also witty and warm. No, what shamed Joe was that this was the first speech in years for which Clarisse had not used him as a try-out audience. He had stayed away from her, as if to show her that _he too_ was powerful: _he_ could ignore her veiled invitations just as _she_ could ignore their happiness.

Watching his Queen delivering her speech he felt an ache for her. Another reason why he had stayed away from her was that when he was around her, the spell she'd put on him made him want to hold her. When he held her, he would not be able to picture living without her.

The audience applauded Queen Clarisse's speech.

_What sort of a future do we have when Genovia has more appeal to her than I do?_ Joe told himself. _Someday someone may publish proof that we are lovers and should that damage the monarchy, Clarisse will let go of me no matter how long we've been together. Our relationship is founded on quicksand. She wants me to remain hidden and I don't even know what she will do in case Genovia would actually welcome our affair._

The Dutch national anthem was played. Joe stood straight and observed the Queen of the Netherlands. Without being beautiful she _was_ charismatic. _And arrogant_, Joe thought. Back at El Chalet he'd had the impression that Queen Beatrix favoured him and Clarisse, but he now knew that she had just wanted her friend to have some fun. Wasn't it telling that she had put him and him alone, in the basement? Downstairs, like a servant. The Viscountess had almost sniggered when a Dutch courtier had informed them about the room arrangements at Huis ten Bosch palace in The Hague. Joe worried whether or not Clarisse approved of her friend's scheming.

Joe stood a little straighter. His ultimatum stood. Sometime somewhere he and his Queen needed to discuss it.

OoOoOoO

The first day of the state visit had taken place in Amsterdam. A foreign head of state would normally spend the night there but Queen Beatrix had made an alteration to the program by having Queen Clarisse stay in the Residence.

Despite it having been a long day, the Queens enjoyed a drink before retiring.

´Amsterdam is lovely B!´ Clarisse said.

´It's magnificent,´ her friend proudly replied.

´The canal trip was wonderful. And there were so many people waving and cheering…´

Beatrix raised her glass: ´To the canals and inhabitants of Amsterdam.´

´Hear hear.´

They simultaneously rested their feet on the coffee table in between them and they laughed for they both still wore evening gowns and tiaras.

´He hasn't come to talk to you?´

´No. He's brooding in the background.´

´Dreaming of standing in the spot light?´

´When he's the centre of attention, I will lose him. You _read_ the articles B. I _am_ right, am I not?´

´Yes. As things stand now, you are.´

´I don't want to lose him.´

´You still might.´

´If Parliament had not agreed with _your_ choice for a husband, you would have let Ernst go.´

´Yes. And back then I would have reasoned that another man would come my way. I'd been in love _before_ Ernst; I could have fallen in love again. After all: a crown-princess needs an heir and a spare.´

Clarisse wanted to mention that Beatrix would have been broken hearted at the loss of Ernst, but that would no doubt trigger her friend to make her tell how _she_ would feel should she lose Joseph. Therefore she merely said: ´And I have an heir, I know. But I still have a duty to the country and to the monarchy.´

´He loves you. You love him.´

´And there's a mountain called Tittle Tattle standing between us.´

´Make a road. Dig a tunnel.´

Clarisse shrugged and finished her drink. Beatrix asked her why her aid hadn't come along.

´She became an aunt and her marine brother-in-law can't return home yet. Charlotte wanted to take care of her sister and niece. Frankly I think she doesn't like her job anymore.´

´Oh?´

´I believe that she felt that she would have more influence.´

´So she might leave you too.´

´Too? Oh. Aren't you subtle.´

´It's my middle name. Just as yours is Stubborn.´

´Ha-ha.´

´I fear that when Joseph leaves you, even _my_ sense of humour will never make you laugh again. I should hate that.´

Beatrix rose to get them another drink. After handing Clarisse her glass she sat down next to her.

´The first time we were at El Chalet, you made an important decision. You admitted that you wanted to be happy and that Joseph made you happy.´

´And I was stupid enough to embrace _Que sera sera_.´

´It was the bravest thing you've done since marrying Rupert.´

Clarisse whirled her drink.

´I'm afraid B.´

Beatrix remained silent. After taking a deep breath Clarisse said: ´I'm afraid to lose him. I'm afraid to lose Philippe. I'm afraid to lose my people. I'm afraid to be ridiculed. I'm afraid that should I chose Joseph, I'll make his life a living hell because I'm homesick and bored and hate being a Mrs.´

Relieved that she had spoken her mind but anxious to hear B's response Clarisse took a sip of her scotch.

´I run into a famous Dutch actress one day, in a shop,´ Beatrix said, ´and she addressed me as _Mrs Nielsen_. I can't _stand_ her anymore.´

Beatrix looked at her friend until Clarisse gave her a feeble smile.

´I conclude,´ Beatrix cautiously said, ´that you might give up on Genovia in case your people veto your relationship with Joseph?´

´Perhaps. Provided Philippe's throne is secure.´

´Tell him!´

Clarisse made a face. ´What's the point B? What good will _perhaps_ do to him? And apart from that: as long as people don't find out about us he is safe and so am I. I don't intend to _tell_ the world that we are a couple.´

´It may be enough for him to know that you're choice isn't set in stone. _Tell him_.´

Clarisse stared ahead.

OoOoOoO

When Joe left the breakfast room for the staff members he bumped into the prince-consort. Prince Ernst told him that he was going for an early morning walk in the garden and would Mr Romero care to join him?

On the palace's grounds Dutch security prevented Joe from having to guard and he felt obliged to follow the prince's suggestion.

Making remarks about the weather the prince-consort led the bodyguard to a terrace from where they had a view on the rose garden. The prince rested his hands on a balustrade and took a few deep breaths. He glanced at Clarisse's lover who stood there with his hands behind his back as if they hadn't just climbed some stairs.

´I envy you Mr Romero.´

Joe, knowing about the prince's delicate health, replied that he treasured his robust constitution. The prince, shaking his head, smiled and continued in his slow speech: ´The heart attacks I had are a blessing in disguise. I regret that they caused the Queen and the princesses to worry but otherwise they have given me what I've longed for for years. No, I envy you but not for your physical condition.´

Joe was curious but he could hardly inquire what His Royal Highness meant to say.

´Do you know that I used to be a linguist?´

Joe replied negatively. The prince nodded. ´I worked for the University of Copenhagen. I am born a Dane you see. In the sixties I studied the language skills of toddlers in an Italian orphanage. One day it was announced that the Dutch Crown Princess would be visiting.´

In the garden the two Queens appeared. They walked toward the palace.

´Do you have any idea how weird it is when royalty makes its appearance Mr Romero?´

Joe was lost for words.

´Broken things got repaired and stuffed toys appeared. Security checked the building. I had to show my pass twice before I was allowed in,´ the prince said, the wonder he had felt then still evident in his voice. ´The high guest arrived with a train of journalists...´

He shook his head.

´I half expected the princess to leave as soon as there were no photographers around anymore, but she stayed and she remained interested and kind. She talked to the children in a none-belittling way. A nervous boy hit her arm and she winked at him. And I, a forty-two year old bachelor, became bewitched by her smile. And by her beautiful Italian.´

Feeling that the prince expected a reply Joe awkwardly said: ´So you wooed her.´

Queen Beatrix gestured toward a rose bush and Clarisse bent over to smell a flower.

´Good Lord no. I didn't see the point. She was a princess. I was a boring old scientist who preferred reading and writing over mingling with people. It was _she_ who wooed _me_ but even on our wedding day I wondered whether proposing to her was the wisest thing I'd ever done.´

Seeing the embarrassment on his companion's face the prince quickly said: ´It _was_. I would have been a _fool_ to let the woman of my life walk away. But being married to a future Queen was hard. Being married to a Queen was even harder. I was Alice in Wonderland. Nothing made sense.´

Queen Beatrix waved at her husband. The prince waved back. Joe felt as if Clarisse, who obviously hadn't noticed them before, stared right at him. She said something to her friend.

´I remember my first public appearance without my wife. The horror. People applauded me when I got out of a car. _She_ had to convince me they were simply welcoming me rather than praising me for getting out of the vehicle. I haven't done any solo performances in many years. When I'm with _her_, it's different. She's the centre of attention. I walk in her shadow and I get pitied for that because I'm a man.´

The prince shook his head. ´Sådan noget sludder! When I'm with her I don't feel like a complete fraud. I don't mind it that much when people open doors for me. I can even make small talk then.´

The prince stood a bit straighter. ´I'm grateful that our daughters take after her. They meet Mad Hatters and White Rabbits and they make it work. You'll meet the princesses tomorrow afternoon. My Queen planned for a reunion.´

The prince checked his watch. ´Lieveling!´ he called out to his wife. ´You should almost leave!´

Addressing Joseph again he said: ´I dislike it when I have to eat and pretend to be interested in what people have to say at the same time. When I eat I eat.´

Joe recalled that at the banquet the prince had spoken lively with Queen Clarisse, but that he hadn't shared many words with his other table partner.

´Well, it was either breakfast or lunch with the Prime Minister,´ the prince said after a while. He shrugged. ´At least Clarisse gets the worst in the morning. Keep an eye on him Mr Romero, he's a slippery fellow. ´

By then Their Majesties had joined him and the head of security.

´Who is a slippery fellow Ernst? Good morning Joseph.´

´Ma'am,´ Joe said, inclining his head.

´For crying -,´ the prince started but he was stopped by a look from his wife. ´Fine fine,´ he said. He kissed Clarisse's hand, caressed the top of his wife's nose with a finger and left.

´Oh goodbye Mr Romero!´ he said over his shoulder.

´Your Highness.´

´Ernst is the name!´ the prince cried with a flourish. ´Ernst. Ernst Prince! Have a nice breakfast in the Treveszaal my dears!´

Joe stared at the prince. The Queens looked at each other and smiled.

Clarisse linked her arm with Beatrix's arm. The Dutch Queen greeted Mr Romero with a nod and the ladies walked toward the palace. Joe heard them talk but he couldn't make out the words.

OoOoOoO

After visiting the _Hortus Botanicus_ in Leiden the Queens greeted the hundreds of people who were waiting outside. Joe studied how his men and the Dutch guards handled the public attention. In the back of his mind another issue demanded attention without making him neglect his duty.

Reunion? Was the prince-consort going gaga?

What's Tall Woman doing? Handing a present. All clear.

Queen Beatrix didn't think that her husband is nuts.

What's that? An umbrella. All clear. Vilais missed it.

Maybe in Danish or Dutch the same words are used for "You'll see them" and "You'll meet them".

Orange Shirt is slightly drunk. Capras blocks him. All clear.

English not being the prince's first language he might have mixed things up. But then: I _saw_ the princesses already at the banquet…

An early lunch was served at the University, where the topic was the soon to be started cooperation between the universities of Leiden and Pyrus. The royal train then moved to a so called green suburb where Their Majesties and the politicians and CEO's who accompanied them received information on improving the environment on a community scale. The visit, like all visits the Queens had made, was heavily covered by the media. Most journalists were from Genovia but none of them seemed interested in making pictures of Queen Clarisse and her head of security anymore. All morning papers had published photos of General Coligny accompanying Queen Clarisse to the Dam Square Monument. Without exception the subscripts mentioned the Luna pictures and Joe wasn't sorry for it: it proved that the widowed Queen had been coupled with a man before. Still, Joe made sure not to come near his charge.

The next public appearance would be in The Hague where the Queens were to open an exhibition with works of Genovian and Dutch sculptors. Before that they had forty-six minutes to freshen up and have tea at Huis ten Bosch.

Back at the palace Joe made it for his room. He had expected to have to stay in a windowless cupboard but not only did his sitting room enjoy daylight through high placed windows it was also very luxurious. Perhaps Queen Beatrix felt that making him sleep in the basement was insult enough.

Just as Joe had sat down and closed his eyes there was a knock on the door. He went to answer it.

´Your Highness,´ he said, not quite able to keep the surprise out of his voice.

´Good afternoon Mr Romero, I wondered, perhaps you care for model railways?´

´Uhm. Well yes…´

´Good! My family likes it as well, but they are women aren't they?´

The prince made an inviting gesture and Joe stepped outside and closed his door.

´Princess Louise studied engineering but even she primarily cares for the little people and their houses on my layout.´

A few metres down the corridor HRH opened a door that was similar to the door to Joseph's room, except that it led, rather surprisingly, to a staircase. The prince switched on a dim light.

´It is my theory,´ he said as he slowly ascended, ´that most _men_ prefer the technical part. Yesterday I asked Count Rossano to have a look and he proved to be one of most men.´

´Aha,´ Joe contributed.

The first exit was at the top of the stairs. It opened into a corridor with framed children's drawings on the wall.

´From that room,´ the prince said as he gestured to the door next to the one they just walked through, ´there's a fabulous view on the garden. I would have liked to have it for a train room but my Queen remarked that I only pay attention to my trains in my train room so a great view would be wasted on me. She was right of course. She now uses it to house our dearest friends when they visit.´

Joe followed the prince down the corridor into a room. Despite what he had on his mind, he was momentarily diverted when seeing the size of the model railway layout.

The prince drank in his expression with a big smile on his face.

´Nice isn't it?´

Joe nodded.

Prince Ernst turned on some switches and trains started to ride. There was a lot to look at and Joe put on a smiling face. He couldn't pay the miniature landscape the attention it deserved.

´Have you designed the layout yourself?´ he asked when after half a minute the prince stopped the trains.

´I have, for the technical part,´ the prince said. ´Tracks, tunnels, crossings. But I must admit that when it was a deserted world, it wasn't half as attractive as it is now. My daughters and wife suggested me how to inhabit it.´

The prince-consort gestured toward a long table underneath a window. On it laid things like tiny cars and traffic signs that had yet to be placed in the miniature world.

´You wouldn't believe how much is for sale in the world of model trains. I make things myself also. One house or one Lilliputian alone takes many hours. I've got a map over there; let me show it to you.´

The prince and Joe passed a work-bench. Several houses Joe had learned to identify as Dutch were waiting to be painted. Delicate brushes stood in empty jam jars. On a stand with a magnifying glass attached to it there were two figures. Joe had a look at them, though he was _one of most men_.

´Most products are made for the German market,´ the prince remarked, ´and don't fit in a typical Dutch scenery.´

Joe straightened up and walked on, relieved to find that the prince was carefully taking a small building from a show-case and couldn't have noticed what he'd been doing.

´This is home-made,´ the prince told Joe. ´It's a real Dutch marihuana shop. I called it Lou M, after my daughters. Isn't it a beauty? Even the lights work.´

Joe nodded.

´On the map you'll see what I planned to do with that part of the track.´

The prince made a head movement toward a bare landscape in front of a small town.

Joe studied the map. ´You want -´ he cleared his throat. ´You want to make a harbour here.´ ´That's what I _wanted_ to do,´ the prince said as he put the building back where it came from. ´My wife and daughters vetoed my plans: I'm not allowed to create heavy industry near a town.´

The prince smiled at Mr Romero, who kept his focus on the map.

´My youngest daughter suggested expanding the city with fancy office buildings, a park with moveable objects and a tramway. I rather like that idea. Oh! Is it that late already?´

´There's enough time before Their Majesties have to leave,´ Joe said without having to check his watch.

´If you ask me they want to do too many things in too little time. My Queen tried to persuade her Minister of Foreign Affairs to have the state visit spread out over four days. Of course every day of it would be as exhausting as yesterday, today and tomorrow morning, but the man said no. Had your Queen been the Tsarina of Russia, he might have agreed with a full week's visit, but there we are. Was it nice so far?´

´I'm sorry?´

´The visit. Is it a good one?´

´The program is very interesting,´ Joe heard himself say, ´and the Dutch are enthusiastic.´

´Is that security language for troublesome?´

´On the contrary sir.´

´Good! I know that my Queen looked forward to this visit for a long time.´

´So did mine,´ Joe bluffed. He imagined that Clarisse had anxiously anticipated the visit to her dear friend's country. There would have been a sparkle in her eye as she would have told him about the beauty waiting for her at the _Hortus_. She would have smiled brightly at him while musing about meeting the Genovians who lived in the Netherlands. His own smile faded when it occurred to him that Clarisse might have been too pre-occupied with his, Joe's, behaviour to pay much thought on the visit. _She's been all alone_, Joe realised with a pang. _And so was I._

He found himself following the prince on the way out and he focused on what HRH was saying.

´… glad you could make it here. It is strange, but with what I learned about you, I feel as if I know you. Oh my, your expression turns stone-like.´

The prince stopped walking and so did Joe.

´My source isn't some gossip magazine Mr Romero.´

Joe tried a smile.

The prince sighed. ´It's not a picnic is it? I know all about it. Perhaps it makes you feel better to learn that I escaped to Denmark several times. According to the gossips that is. I also had an affair with a _tenor_, behaved arrogantly toward my Danish relatives and estranged my dear daughters.´

´That's horrible.´

The prince grimly nodded. ´After _that_ gossip my wife had the Governmental Information Service invite some editors over to make clear such crap wasn't appreciated.´

The prince accompanied Mr Romero to the basement. Standing in front of his door he said: ´Count Rossano was a bit surprised not to find palaces in my miniature world. He nodded when I told him that to me a _house_ is a natural habitat but frankly I doubt he understood.´

´_I_ do,´ Joe earnestly replied.

OoOoOoO

The second day of the visit ended with a joint performance by the renowned _Nationaal Ballet_ and Genovia's leading dance company. Joe was glad when the curtain closed. In the course of years he had learned to appreciate roses and opera, but Clarisse's enthusiasm for ballet had failed to endear him.

While Joe scanned the merry crowd in the foyer his eyes inevitably fell on his Queen, whose halter neck evening dress complimented her up to the point when Joe had to look away.

His ears focused on her voice which sounded a little husky after two glasses of champagne.

Beaming dancers surrounded her and to Joe they were like butterflies paying tribute to a flower.

OoOoOoO

Back at the palace Joe had a shower. It wasn't until he noticed the mirror was steamed up that he realised that the water must be running for quite some time.

He dressed with care.

The third time his hand touched the door-handle he pushed it down, leaving a film of sweat.

The corridor was barely lit which suited him just fine. Not knowing whether switching on the stair-case's lights would alert security at this hour he climbed in darkness. It offered no difficulties: when he'd descended earlier that day he'd counted the steps.

He had nearly reached the second landing when he felt a blast of air coming from above and almost immediately afterwards there was light everywhere.

Joe privately repeated the excuse he'd prepared for being where he was. Whoever had entered remained silent. There was a rustling of fabric and moments later on a familiar perfume entered his nose. Joseph stood motionless until the rustling stopped. Knowing he had been spotted he took the remaining steps to the landing.

Locking eyes with him Clarisse stepped down. She still wore her enticing evening gown but –only partly due to the fact that she had removed her jewellery - she didn't sparkle like she had at the party.

To Joe's surprise she seated herself on the stairs. With a gesture she invited him to join her. Joe didn't know whether he could hope or whether doomsday was near. He sat down.

…

…

Author's note: _Sådan noget sludder_ means something like _such nonsense_. _Lieveling_ means _darling_. _Comments are appreciated_ means _please type a review._


	13. At the end of the day

Author's note: some years ago I was in Denmark visiting a charming kro (inn). I pictured the finale of this story to take place there, but things run a little differently and the only Danish connection in this story is prince-consort Ernst's birth nationality. Nearly three years after publishing the first chapter, I present Field day's conclusion. It takes place immediately after the previous chapter. Thank you for reading, reviewing, following and favouring.

Chapter 13 – At the end of the day

´Beatrix informed me about these stairs this morning. Did Ernst tell _you_ about them?´ Clarisse asked after Joseph sat down next to her.

´Yes. He took me to see his model landscape,´ Joe said. He too looked at the wall ahead.

´He's proud of it. And rightly so.´

´Yes. Absolutely.´

´It's going to be exposed in the palace on Dam Square.´

Yesterday Joe had doubted whether Clarisse and he had a future together and here he was, wishing he could sit with her forever even if that meant exchanging small talk. Small talk was innocent. Small talk wouldn't set lives upside down.

´The prince didn't mention that,´ Joe said. ´It will attract many visitors.´

´I admired his miniature Clarisse and Joseph,´ Clarisse said, ´Dancing. I could do that with you for eternity.´

Joe felt Clarisse's eyes on him. He stared at the landing, bracing himself for the ´but´ that would follow.

´Have you seen them?´ Clarisse asked.

Joe nodded.

´I felt that my duty to Genovia didn't allow me to think about myself. About us. I acknowledged that you don't want to live a secret private life forever and I was prepared to let you go. But what am I without you?´

Joe exhaled.

´Please don't leave me Joseph.´

´And be miserable in Spain, all alone?´ Joe said in a thick voice. ´This is where I want to be. Close to my beloved.´

Her right hand found his left hand. With his free hand he wiped away a tear from her cheek.

´You asked me one day how close I wanted you. I will not _dump_ you Joseph. I won't do that to you. Or to myself.´

Joe pulled his Queen against him. ´We are a couple,´ he stated but at the same time it was a question.

´Yes, we are. We'll stay together.´

Clarisse's words made Joe want to float, fly, sing, dance, defeat a dragon. What he _did_, with a rapidly beating heart, a smile on his face and moist eyes was hold on to his beloved for dear life. Clarisse clung to him. After a while Joe was sure from the way she shifted in his arms that she was going to speak. She remained silent and when it happened again Joe offered: ´We are an unusual couple though.´

Clarisse backed away a little and cupped his face. Joe drowned in her loving eyes.

´We are,´ she said. ´Or perhaps I am a strange woman. I don't want to lose you Joseph. Should Genovia disapprove of us, I will leave with you but…´

Joe caught her wrists and felt her heartbeat. ´But in case we can continue like this, you'd rather stay,´ he said.

Clarisse averted her eyes from Joseph's face.

´No need to feel bad about that mi amor.´

Joe kissed her left wrist, then her right wrist and lowered their hands.

´I learned that I am a man for the shadows. You are a lady to hold the stage. If we can have the best of both worlds, I could wish for nothing more.´

Despite her obvious relief Clarisse said: ´Don't say things you will regret Joseph.´

´What I regret is that I was lost in self-pity. What I regret is that I didn't talk to you. Let's make each other a promise: whatever our future brings, we will talk.´

´Yes we will,´ Clarisse said. She cupped Joseph's cheek. ´Not too long ago you objected to being kept hidden. Are you sure- ´

Joe interrupted her but not to remind her that _she too_ had changed her mind recently. ´In an ideal world I would be a prince. A prince or a king who could openly court the queen of Genovia and take her with him to his castle. But perfect pictures don't exist. In _this_ world you are bound to your country and I am a servant who loves you. Tell me Clarisse, am I in your diaries?´

Clarisse had started blinking during the first part of his speech, but the last line left her puzzled.

´Yes you are. Of course you are.´

´As part of us?´

´Oh I see,´ Clarisse said with a mischievous smile. ´The first historian who'll read my diaries will have to change his ideas about the Ice Queen.´

Clarisse felt her body respond to her lover's expression but she continued her point: ´Joseph, becoming known as my mate far into the next century is hardly-´

´Shh. Your friends know. And my brothers are discrete...´

´Once Philippe's throne is secure you could tell them…´ Clarisse suggested.

Joe ended the negotiation: ´That sounds good.´ He caressed Clarisse's face. His ministrations made her close her eyes. She looked lovely. Like an angel. A sensual angel. Joe smiled and moistened his lips.

´Ti amo,´ he whispered. Clarisse's eyes flashed open. What he read there made Joe ask: ´Is there more we need to talk about my love?´

´If Genovia finds out and doesn't approve of us, we'll leave and find a home but I will _not_ cook and clean.´

Joe would have laughed at her remark if it wasn't for the look on her face and her nearly painful hold on his hand. ´You are my _Queen_,´ he slowly said. ´No matter what happens you will _always_ be my Queen. You're not a housewife.´

Clarisse relaxed and Joe asked: ´Did you _really_ think I would want you to be one?´

Clarisse shrugged. ´I reasoned that you might not like having servants around,´ she said, ´and you once told me that your brothers don't lift a finger in the household.´

Joe held back a smile. ´I'm not my brothers.´

´No,´ Clarisse said as she gently dragged Joseph's face toward her, ´You're mine.´

Joe hungrily returned her kisses until he realised, far too late, that there might be cameras around.

He looked at the top of the stairs.

´No eyes, no ears,´ Clarisse said, ´The lady of the house told me so herself.´

Joe briefly closed his eyes as he recalled his thoughts about Queen Beatrix. ´I misjudged her. By putting me in the basement I thought she wanted to humiliate me.´

´Oh Joseph,´ Clarisse said with a sigh. She caressed the back of his neck but her hand stilled when a thought came up: ´Did you believe I agreed with that idea?´

´I wasn't sure,´ Joe confessed. ´I feared you might.´

Clarisse kissed his forehead. ´Dance with me.´

The landing was hardly a ballroom but Clarisse and Joseph were more than content to shuffle. It didn't take long before they stopped pretending to dance. Joe let his radiant Queen corner him against a wall. When he felt that the effects of her touches made him weak-kneed with desire he caught his lover's hands. This time _Clarisse_ asked whether they had something to discuss. Grateful that she understood him he said: ´If Genovia finds out and rejoices, or at least doesn't object to _us_, and we live at the castle as a couple and you still have a function in Genovia do you expect me to do _princely things_?´

´Such as accompanying me?´

´I would love to do _that_.´

´But otherwise you would prefer not to be a public figure?´

´Yes.´

´If that is what you want, that is how it will be.´

´Are you sure?´

´The job I can handle alone. It's in my life as Clarisse that I need _us_.´

Joe, relieved, moved and exquisitely happy, turned them around and started kissing Clarisse's neck. He pressed his body against hers. She moaned. When his lips moved to her cleavage, she sighed: ´Joseph?´

Unwilling to let go of her but not wanting to ignore her question he whispered against her skin: ´Is there more we need to talk about Corazon?´

´Yes.´

Frustrated and anxious yet gentlemanlike Joe straightened up.

´Your room or my room?´ Clarisse asked. Her eyes twinkled.

Joe's heartbeat increased. ´I was told that your room offers a wonderful view.´

´True,´ Clarisse replied, ´If you care for small purple flowers on black lace.´

OoOoOoO

Host in studio in Pyrus: Welcome back to Good morning Genovia! We'll go live to the Netherlands where Queen Clarisse is spending the last hours of her state visit. Present on location is Margot Gris. Margot, what will Her Majesty be doing today?

Margot Gris: Good morning Genovia! The Queen's day takes off at an early start in the harbour of Rotterdam. You can see her limousine approaching behind me. From the harbour she will go to a high school where she will be joined by Crown Princess Louise and then she'll return to The Hague to visit the Peace Palace. That will be the conclusion of the visit. She will remain here for a few more days to spend private time with her friend, the Queen of the Netherlands.

Host: She has a busy program. Does she show signs of fatigue?

Gris: Not at all! I'm thirty years younger than she is and I'm not ashamed to say that _I'm_ tired, but – oh, there she is!

Host: She looks amazing!

Gris: Absolutely, as if she's on a holiday!

Host: Really incredibly charming. Her pencil skirt dress is very becoming. And those men, all harbour barons and such I presume, are just beaming at her. How nice.

Gris: Yes wonderful! Of course she's visiting her dearest friend's country. I guess that accounts for her good looks as well.

Host: We read and heard a lot about her and Queen Beatrix. You've seen them together. What can you tell us about their friendship?

Gris: Queen Beatrix accompanied our Queen on several occasions in the past two days and you can just _feel_ their connection. They go back a long way. A Dutch magazine suggested they might even become related one day for Princess Emma, Queen Beatrix's younger daughter, might marry Prince Philippe.

Host: Oh, those gossips! Would you say that part of the reason why our Queen looks so radiant is that she is no longer plagued by gossip herself?

Gris: I imagine so. Yesterday at the ballet performance I talked to a lady from the Queen's staff who hinted that the past weeks were rather stressful for Her Majesty. The lady admired the fact that the Queen did not change her behaviour toward her head of security: she is still kind to him, just as she is to all her servants, the lady said.

Host: Speaking of whom, I don't think I saw him just now.

Gris: Several members of the Queen's staff attend knowledge sharing sessions with their Dutch counterparts today and tomorrow as well. The guards are among them.

Host: Everyone is making the most of this visit! Margot, I wish you and our radiant Queen good luck these remaining hours of the state visit.

OoOoOoO

Shrewd. Joe's second favourite Queen was shrewd. Joe spent the morning in a hotel in Noordwijk observing Genovian and Dutch guards working on a team assignment. At around noon he left them for his lunch appointment with the Dutch head of security at Huis ten Bosch palace. They discussed work related topics and Joe handed him a sealed envelope with a security file to study. He received one in return. The Dutchman didn't know that Mr Romero had had access to the The Hague file for over a week and had done his homework on stationary with a Huis ten Bosch letterhead. It hadn't made sense to Joe when he had received the stack of paper from The Hague but it did now. Tomorrow afternoon he would continue his meeting with the Dutchman, who would think that like himself his colleague had spent the past day working on the file. Shrewd.

An alibi was something Joe needed because he would secretly spent the rest of the day in the private wing of Huis ten Bosch. He was restless with anticipation.

Looking at his shirts he at last opted for an Armani. He then studied his tie collection. Should he wear one? The prince didn't wear a tie at home but Joe wasn't at home. Then again: visiting his partner's friends – his partner's friends!- shouldn't be a formal occasion. He'd play it safe: in the hotel he'd bought a black silk tie with orange dots on it. Wearing it would be seen as a nice gesture to the members of the House of Orange.

Picking up his selections he walked to the bathroom where he indulged himself with a look in the mirror. Several of the imprints Clarisse's nails had left on his shoulders and back still showed. Joe wore a grin on his face until some fifteen minutes later on there was a knock on his door.

On opening it he found Prince Ernst standing there. Joe invited him in saying he just needed a moment to freshen up a bit. He hid himself in the bathroom for half a minute but all he did was stare at a wall and briefly run the tap.

´She had wanted to pick you up herself,´ Prince Ernst slowly said when Joe emerged. ´My wife convinced her that it was better if _I_ came to get you. Just in case. She would make a fabulous M. You'll understand that we will go and admire my trains again,´ the Prince said with a twinkle in his eye. ´Are you ready?´

Joe nodded and cleared his throat. ´Will your granddaughters be there as well?´

´No. Their royal grandmother arranged for a program of their own. They just left and they will even spend the night elsewhere. We might therefore have a joined breakfast tomorrow morning. Optional of course.´

The Prince didn't wait for a reply: he turned around and asked his guest to follow him. Joe was quite sure he heard a smile in the man's voice.

OoOoOoO

Joe was moved to see Clarisse waiting for him in the upstairs corridor.

´Here he is my dear,´ Prince Ernst said to her. Clarisse reached out and hand in hand she and her mate followed the Prince to the family sitting room.

Queen Beatrix was standing near the entrance studying a painting.

´There you are,´ she said.

´Your Majesty,´ Joe replied.

´You are not here as a head of security now are you? And I'd like to think that _I'm_ not here as a head of state. I suggest we call each other by our names.´

´Hear hear,´ Ernst said.

Joe grabbed Clarisse's hand tighter. She reassuring caressed his dumb with hers.

´So Joseph, meet my very dear friends Beatrix and Ernst,´ Clarisse said as she let go of her lover's hand.

Beatrix, smiling from ear to ear, put her hands on Joseph's upper arms and fondly looked at him. ´Welcome to the family Joseph,´ she said.

When Joe had pictured being Clarisse's out-in-the-open-partner, he had not thought of this. Here he stood, simple Joe Romero and this majestic woman opened her arms for him and treated him like an equal. He felt treacherous tears coming up and he knew that if he would look at her beautiful smile and her kind eyes any longer, he would start blinking suspiciously. He awkwardly hugged the Qu- _Beatrix_ he told himself. _I should use her name at least once today. Beatrix. _

´Thank you,´ he softly said.

Ernst firmly shook his hand. ´I'm _very_ happy that you are _here_,´ he said staring straight into Joe's eyes.

´So am I s-.´ Joe held his tongue.

´Just in time Joseph. You see; _I_ don't have difficulties using _your_ name.´

Joe hadn't heard footsteps approach but suddenly someone nearby said: ´Really papa, you can't claim him for yourself.´

Ernst released Joseph's hand.

´Louise, Emma, meet Joseph,´ Clarisse said. Something in her voice made Joe glance at her. She looked proud. Proud of him. With a smile Joe greeted the daughters of his beloved's friends. The young women looked at him with an affection that was larger than their newly made acquaintance justified. Joe concluded that at least one of their parents had sung his praises.

Ernst gestured toward the sitting area and Clarisse took Joseph's hand and walked him to the only couch. Joe felt happy and confident but it took a while before he contributed to the conversations going on.

Hours passed by and Joe enjoyed every minute. Drinks and food, serious discussions and laughter: everything was just as it should be and he knew that he never wanted to forget this day.

What he relished first and foremost was holding Clarisse's hand, putting an arm around her shoulders and letting the love he felt for her show in his eyes for all to see.

And all rejoiced.


End file.
